Touching the Horizon
by BlackDragon733
Summary: A LadyHawke AU, set in Thedas, where a young Riona Hawke leaves her family in Kirkwall to travel the world. She becomes enthralled by a cruel Tevinter magister's slave, Fenris. A cruel magic leaves them cursed, unable to see each other again when he spends his nights as a wolf, and she lives her days as a hawk. How does love survive without touch and without words
1. Chapter 1

"The Lady Catriona Amell, of Kirkwall." A man in a fine embroidered jacket called, holding out a hand that Hawke elegantly accepted as he assisted her first step onto the staircase.

The hall was swirling in colour, huge pillars along the edges of the room each bedecked in a different crest, presumably the sponsors of the event, hoping to flaunt the wealth at their disposal. She took in the long, finely cut robes of the men in the room, even the lady's dresses styled to mimic the mage garb, lest anyone forget who made the high society of Tevinter.

Hawke shook her head at the arched backs, the primness of the nobles posturing in the centre of the room, supposedly a dancefloor but from what Hawke could tell, serving more like a stage. It was also the part of the room she the least desire to be, dancing never being her strongest suit, though her mother had despaired over the many paid lessons Riona had derailed.

After overhearing talk of the Grand Ball that evening, Hawke had decided she would be attending. She used the money she had acquired while staying in Antiva to buy an appropriate gown and her quick mouth convinced the doorman that of course she was supposed to be there. It had been a whim, as most of her travels thus far had been, but since she was here, she determined that she would use the opportunity to observe. She knew something of courts and to see what was going on at the edges of society she kept to the side of the great ball room. Crowds of people talking, giving away the information she needed to be able to blend in to her new location, were exactly what she wanted. As she drew closer, she spotted the presence of shadows she had already observed in the streets of town, a situation that left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

Many of the magisters had their own shadow, standing by their side or more discreetly stood with backs against the walls, always watching and ready to come to attend the slightest need of their masters.

Slaves.

Hawke was distracted, trying to watch the way these slaves, almost all of them elves, managed to appear quite invisible most of the time. She was also helping herself to the buffet table while positioning herself so she could overhear the chatter of a woman about the shame of Magister something-or-other, some business with his son and an engagement beneath his station. Enraptured as she was, she didn't notice a man appearing at her side, until his voice was in her ear.

"The Lady Amell, am I correct?" His voice exuded a smooth arrogance, and Hawke turned sharply to meet perceptive grey eyes, a long face. Salt and pepper hair was swept backwards and a well-kept beard covered his chin. When he leaned back, straightening, he was at least a head taller than Riona.

She pulled herself up in response, lifting her chin and meeting his eyes with cool aplomb. "You are," She toned her voice, radiating confidence, "And who do I have the honour of being recognised by?"

His lips quirked upwards in amusement, or approval. "Magister Danarius Calvisi. The honour is all mine. Tell me, if you will, what brings someone from Kirkwall as far as Minrathous? It is no trifling journey, I would know." She didn't know what to make of this Danarius, the silky tones he used too slick to be entirely honest and his manner just perfectly posed, as much a façade as her own. Whoever he was, whether he belonged here or not, there was more to his true nature than what he put on display.

"My family have contacts in the city. I wanted to travel and the Imperium seemed like such an impressive place to see, before I headed back home. I thought, why waste a good opportunity?"

"Why, indeed." He smiled ingratiatingly. "And my happy fortune that your curiosity led you here."

"You've travelled to Kirkwall? What brought you there?" She couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks at his smooth words and she attempted to side track onto a different topic.

"Business, I'm afraid, not pleasure. I had to confer with contacts in person to ensure acquisition of my goods."

"You trade then?"

"I procure some of the finest and rarest commodities, from all around Thedas."

"Fascinating." She was amusing herself, enjoying the way the man seemed genuinely intrigued by her foreign customs. He asked of her home and she was able to detail her family estate honestly, although she, personally, had not been there for as long as she implied. She was happy to answer his questions and in return posited a few of her own, gathering information all the time, with the honest and legitimate excuse of being new in town.

He asked about the system of aristocracy in Fereldan and Kirkwall, given that Hawke and – by all lawful accounts – her family had no magic, yet were still considered influential. From the answers he gave her she pieced together the structure of the Tevinter courts, which were otherwise quite unknown outside the Imperium. She learnt how the Archon ruled at the top with Magisters at his side, while other Archon mages fought, schemed and tricked their way into the upper circles, always vying to rise up to higher stations.

"Perhaps, if you conclude your business with your family's contacts," She registered the way he paused over the words. "I would urge you to visit my estate. I would enjoy showing a fellow traveller some of the wonders I have gathered."

"Your collection certainly sounds like quite the spectacle. Though I haven't been in here in Minrathous long, and I have many plans to attend to. You know how family business can be. Perhaps if I find time in my busy schedule…"

"I hope you do, I would be quite distressed to miss you before you left."

She smiled at him pleasantly, feeling a sense of smugness at the effect of her charms. With a slight bow, she replied "I'm sure I couldn't take up the time of a man as distinguished as yourself."

He gave the same, satisfied smile again. He was, as she knew of people in societies such as this all over, proudest of his status and she watched with amusement as he puffed up like a pleased canary that it had been noticed and complimented. "Quite the contrary, my lady. I first approached you, as I can assure you others will, to investigate this foreign beauty who has graced our courts. What I did not expect to find was such a charming and intelligent delight as you are. I have been quite selfish keeping you all to myself for this long." He stepped forward slightly, taking her hand in his own "I will leave you to enjoy this party, though my selfish heart hopes that you will not let yourself be swept away by the flighty fancies of the younger, inexperienced men here."

He leant over and lifted her hand to his lips, placing a chivalrous kiss over her fingers. She chuckled at the dismissive tone he used to describe her apparent other 'suitors' in the room and replied in kind.

"Lord—Magister Danarius, it has been a pleasure. And I assure you that if any young man catches my eye, I will make sure to let him know that he must have a collection of artefacts from twice the world over to have a chance of impressing me." He laughed openly and released her hand, giving a short bow. As he turned to leave, her eye followed, finding his sense of arrogance tiring and simultaneously charming. And that was the moment she saw him.

Standing against the wall, unassuming and holding himself in such a way to appear as small as possible, was the most remarkable looking elf Riona had ever seen.

He had a shock of pure white hair and an intimidating looking outfit that was both elegant and gave the appearance of armour. Unlike most of the slaves here who were dressed in the most basic clothes, smart enough but entirely functional and plain, this slave looked like he was meant to be seen, a decorated symbol of what, Hawke didn't have the grasp of the culture to imagine, but certainly something different.

What the outfit also demonstrated quite clearly were the white lines, like tattoos, that trailed and contrasted all across the elf's darker skin. She had seen elven facial tattoos, few of those elves in the room had them but none were coloured like this, and none were quite as extensive as those unmistakeably displayed on the white haired elf.

In that moment the elf turned to follow his master. Danarius, Hawke suddenly realised. This was the personal slave of the very man she had been talking to and she had never seen someone like him before in her life. Riona found herself drawn to the mysterious shadow following the lordly magister.

She spent the rest of the evening mingling, making all the right allusions to have people think she was staying with friends, every bit the proper and respectable noble lady. Despite it being the very kind of life she had left behind for her travels, here it felt more like a game. When she knew she had nothing better than a cheap pub to go back to, the deceit of putting on her flowing dress and pulling on the noble disguise like an old outfit made it much more exciting.

Even as she spoke to other people, she felt like her mind still caught on the tall, proud Magister and his shadow. Her eyes observed as crowds seemed to part before the man and his elven slave.

Unlike the other slaves who were doing their best to be unnoticed, this elf was positioned to best effect when Danarius conversed with others, mingling, being seen, as she was doing.

She also noticed how there were many men and women she spoke to who skirted the subject of her conversation with Danarius, clearly intrigued by their connection. They each tried to discover, without fail, how she knew him and what that made her, immediately giving her some imagined position in the court as the gossip spread. She kept her answers short, vague, allowing creative fancy to fill the gaps around her. This was the kind of game she knew the steps to, even if it was not to her tastes at all.

As the evening drew to a close, Hawke came back to the side of the elegant Magister Danarius, eyes lingering once more on the figure keeping to his side.

"You have not forgotten me among this host of much younger men, then?" Danarius spoke immediately upon seeing her and she returned her amiable smile to him, almost caught guiltily drawing her gaze from the slave.

"I only had one offer of marriage and access to a pitiful collection of pots." Hawke replied and was pleased with the crack of laughter he gave, understanding her allusion to their parting conversation. "It seems you are far too memorable, Messere." Her own charms had not failed throughout the night. Perhaps her ploy would allow her to obtain more information that she suddenly desperately wanted.

"I hope you won't find me too forward if I say that I am delighted to hear so."

"Oh sometimes being a little bold is the only way to get what you want." She replied smoothly and caught the gleam of triumph in his eye. She was good. "If the offer still stands, I would very much enjoy the chance to see you again, and your rather large collection."

Danarius smiled, without showing his teeth and turned to her side. "We have certainly seen the best this party has to offer. Allow me to escort you out." He held out his arm for her to take it. _Pushy,_ she thought, _or certainly used to getting his own way_.

Still, she took the proffered arm, confident in her ability to look after herself, and with a delicate word, allowed him to lead her from the building. She was aware immediately of the silent presence, shifting position to best flank his master and she saw first-hand the reaction of the crowds.

She knew crowds tittering over a juicy piece of gossip, and saw the unmistakeable signs as her armed through the esteemed magister's drew attention. However what she was not prepared for was the way the crowds immediately parted before their path, stepping aside to make room without being commanded. Riona attracted a few glances herself but there were not many who seemed to meet the tall man she accompanied in the eye.

Stranger still, as she looked over her shoulder, was the way the crowd did not immediately close in behind them. If anything, she thought they were giving a wider berth, taking another step further out of reach of the shadow in their wake. _Just_ _who is this man?_ She asked herself, trying to focus on keeping the wonder she felt from showing on her face. As far as anyone watching knew, she had every right to be there and that's what she needed to show them. _And who is his mystifying slave, that people seem more afraid of him than they are of the master?_

They left the room filled with a satisfactory buzzing, in Hawke's opinion. She liked thinking that she caused a stir people would be discussing for possibly months to come. As they parted, Danarius invited her to visit him the following day, "so you can't see the folly of your ways," When she asked how she would know where to find him, he replied that he could have a slave meet her outside the Senate building at noon the next day.

"A slave? You mean-" She couldn't help glancing over her shoulder then, at the elf that she got the impression she was not supposed to directly draw attention to, based on the surprised reaction Danarius gave her.

"Fenris?" _Fenris_. A name. "Well, I suppose—" He considered her for a moment, not deigning to look himself at the elf he was about to order to do his bidding. "Yes, I imagine it will give quite the impression if you were seen walking through town with _my_ personal guard. An excellent idea, my lady Amell."

Not the reaction she had expected, however she had just managed to arrange a one on one meeting tomorrow with the mysterious elf she had not yet been able to distract her mind from. She found she was unsurprised that Danarius thought people would recognise his bodyguard without himself being present. The elf certainly made an impression and with the way people had been watching him, there was a clear implication the elf was known for some reason. If only she knew what.

The agreement was made and the tall magister strode away into the night, after Hawke assured him that she was quite capable of making her way back to her accommodation. He had not, as she had been half expecting, made any advances to invite her to return with him that evening.

She watched the retreating figures. Despite the lanterns lighting the street, Danarius called forth a green light at the end of his staff, the steady light illuminating the white hair of the figure following behind, a small green outline hunched against the black silhouette of the magister's robes.

Before she set off for the centre of town the next day, Hawke had to decide whether she really wanted to go through with the visit. In the cold light of day, not lit artfully by floating lanterns and her heady sense of achievement successfully pulling the wool over the eyes of a snobbish magister, the prospect of a visit to a strange man's house seemed one of her more foolish ideas. She questioned the wisdom of it, even as her feet took her through the busy streets and towards the agreed upon meeting place. She arrived a short time after the noon meeting time, approaching the square from the side opposite the Assembly of the Magisterium.

The square held a strange mixture of magisters with their overladen, overworked and overlooked slaves following at heel, like well-trained Fereldan hounds. The image chilled her, the cold treatment of fellow people like dogs, worse than, when she thought of the love and affection the people she had seen in Fereldan had for their treasured Mabari. Yet here, a whole race of people were treated with open contempt and considered of no use unless they were doing a magister's bidding.

Drawing around the edges of the busy scene, she finally caught sight of the steps leading to the imposing centre of commerce, the formidable Senate building. There, strikingly conspicuous against the dark marble of the steps, was the white haired elf, Fenris. Today he was wearing what looked like a much more practical armour, designed to be functional and not formal, as the clothes from the previous evening had appeared. There was leather and metal bracers and guards, which Hawke immediately thought had to be fairly sweaty and unpleasant in arid weather like this.

She was musing on this, and also on her reluctance to keep moving towards the Senate building. What could Magister Danarius do if she were to simply turn away, walk into the crowd and never see him again? Might he have her tracked down, not forgive the snub? She was immediately drawn to the potential power and experience she could gain were she to ingratiate herself with the magister. However she could also tell that the man was not stupid and that attempting to fool him merely for her own selfish amusement could be a dangerous mistake.

She had always enjoyed the challenge of a little danger.

This thought made her smile slightly to herself and she looked back at the steps again, to see the elf looking in her direction. Their eyes met across the last few market stalls separating them and Hawke froze, suddenly knowing she was trapped. The elf had seen her and she had to go forward.

But then the white haired elf turned away, glancing at the ground and the over the square in the other direction. He had seen her, and recognised her, of that she was certain and yet he was now pretending he had not. Hawke stood for an indeterminable moment, puzzling over in her mind that this elf was giving her the opportunity to turn around right then and leave, if she wanted. She knew that he would return to his master, passing on a story that the foreign woman had never shown up at their meeting place. He would presumably be the subject of whatever punishment the angry magister deemed enough to calm his rage.

And because the slave would do that for the woman that for all he knew was just the same as everyone else in this terrible country, she had no other choice. She knew she had to go to him.

"Fenris, wasn't it?" Hawke said as she walked up behind the elf. Fenris turned quite calmly, she got the impression he had been perfectly aware of her approach despite the fact he had remained determinedly looking in the other direction. She waited for their eyes to meet but his gaze never quite raised to her face. Instead he stared down at the ground, speaking out loudly enough that she would hear his reply.

"My master wishes to reiterate his appreciation that you would spend your time with him at the Magister's Ball last evening. If it would please you, I am here to show you to his estate." His voice. It was like nothing she could have expected, a deep and pleasant rumble coming from the elf, even though every part of him radiated humility and servitude and something else. And she could not place what it was about him. If only he would look _up_.

"I would like that, Fenris." She said his name with slightly more inflection, and for a moment, his head lifted but his eyes didn't follow then almost immediately his head was dipped respectfully once again, ever the well-behaved servant. Hawke couldn't stand it.

"We shouldn't keep him waiting."

She followed as the elf walked through the confusing maze of stone streets, a city that had built up progressively over hundreds of years of history and presumably it would take years of living here to possibly know all the passageways and routes. As she watched, several poorly dressed elves sped in and out of small alleys, over hung with bushes and canvases so that Hawke wouldn't even have spotted the entrance way.

Luckily, it was easy to keep her eye on this almost silent Fenris, even as he walked quickly and always appeared to be looking from side to side, watching people who came too close – not that many people did – and always surveying the crowds and bustle of the streets with a wary eye. His hunched posture both drew her attention and diverted the attention of others, who mostly looked at Hawke herself.

It hit her that Danarius had told her that Fenris was his guard, a bodyguard, meaning that looking for possible threats against his master was what he did. She realised his posture was less hunched and subservient, as she had first thought but rather up close it appeared more that he was coiled tight like a trap, ready to spring. He was always in preparation for action. Hawke had to wonder again just who this Danarius really was that his bodyguard had to be on high alert at all times.

"Fenris?" She caught up with him to walk by his side and then waited for him to respond, determined in her endeavour to talk, even polite conversation would be nice.

"Yes, Mistress?" He replied, and she balked at the term, looking at him uncomfortably.

"Maker, don't call me that! My name is Riona."

"That would be inappropriate, Mistress." He turned his head and spoke to some point around her feet. She stifled her noise of frustration.

"Hawke, then."

"Hawke?" He lifted his eyes and in the confusion she saw there, ever so briefly before they dropped once more, she realised her mistake.

"Oh, damn. It's Amell here isn't it?" He gave her a sideways glance again, this time his eyes flicked up and down as if reassessing her and she grinned, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I'm not lying to you, or Danarius." The phrase 'your master' was not something she was ever going to bring herself to say. "I am a Lady Amell, Hawke is my father's name, I just…I'm more of a Hawke."

He looked at her once again, obviously confused, but when his eyes met her own, their startlingly green perceptiveness felt piercing. A strange spark fired through her, the connection that had drawn her to follow Danarius from the ball, to go to Fenris in the square, when her instincts were telling her to turn away, flashing warning signals. This spark had kept her going forwards.

Something here was dangerous, and Maker help her, she was going to forge on ahead like she always did. She knew that she would follow this mysterious green eyed, tattooed elf straight into the unknown threat if it meant she could find answers to the questions that surrounded him.

* * *

 **So chapter 1. The idea of a FenHawke, LadyHawke AU was not mine exactly but I decided to take it anyway and Thedas it up. Because I love this universe. And this pairing were truly made for this AU. I hope I can do it justice**


	2. Chapter 2

Fenris led the strange Free Marcher back to his Master's city property. He couldn't begin to work her out at all.

She was from Kirkwall, the City of Chains but beyond that all he knew was that his master held several contracts there, bringing in new slaves for the Imperium. Being a constant shadow at his Master's side, Fenris knew much of his business - Danarius' slavers were everywhere around Thedas, rounding up the poor, the gullible and anyone who was unlikely to be missed.

She didn't seem like someone who might have heard of Danarius through those dealings however. In fact, he still couldn't see exactly what she did know about him. His master had first steered towards her the previous night, drawn to new prey that he could manipulate and probe for new information as soon as he had heard the announcer on the door mention her connection to the Free Marches. From the moment Danarius had snared her attention, Fenris had found her a puzzle. She had been quick in her comebacks, matching Danarius toe to toe as so few people did. Fenris at first had thought her shrewd, smart, except for the fact that she was flirting back with Danarius of all people and as far as Fenris had been able to tell, falling for all of his tricks. Not that Fenris could fathom or dare to ask what game it was his master was playing with her.

Her manner had been easy, laidback, as if she knew exactly what she was doing and Fenris had admired that. After all his time observing the citizens in the halls and streets of Minrathous, he could recognise anyone who was good at showing exactly what they wanted to be seen. Her gown was cheap but passable for the current fashions, though greatly outclasses at this ball, though she seemed proudly unconcerned, or dangerously ignorant of this fact and she continued to play her part well. Yet this all revealed her to be just like the other humans he knew, hiding their true face, playing their part in their hungry quest for power and so he had observed her more closely, assessing the risk she might pose to his master.

As they had parted ways at the end of the evening she had apparently leapt on the chance to visit Danarius' home, to see his treasures and Fenris came to decide that she was yet another woman aspiring for a boost in her fortunes, perhaps only playing dumb to the fact that the man she happened to have latched on to was one of the more powerful players in Minrathous. She was questing after his power and he realised he would have to try to ascertain her intentions as they arranged for him to guide her through town the next day.

But then her eyes had fallen on him. He had been caught in the depth of her golden gaze and something in them left him questioning all of the conclusions he had drawn around her.

At midday, as he stood on the steps of the Magisterium, he caught sight of her heading towards him across the square and once again his estimations of her were unbalanced. He thought she had been about to turn away, perhaps coming to her senses over what she was walking into but that moment clearly passed. Instead she marched determinedly onwards, intent to claim her prize and he realised his strange hesitation over her had simply been a figment of his wandering mind at the end of a long evening on his feet. Here was a calculating woman and he must remain constantly aware and hyper vigilant of her dangerous intent.

It was rare that he was sent to complete any assignment that was not directly at his master's side but in this case, he understood why Danarius had allowed it. Perhaps the Amell woman had requested his guidance, but it provided Danarius with the perfect opportunity to use his most trusted guard to scope out the possible threat, before leading her straight into the middle of his estate. Danarius may have perfected the cool, immoveable exterior but he did not take chances in regards to his own safety, a fact Fenris knew all too well.

So he continued to watch the woman, as she followed him through the streets, as she arrived at his master's house and as she wandered through the halls, giving a keen impression that she was perfectly at ease there. Yet he also noticed how her gaze kept lingering on him when she could turn surreptitiously, always when Danarius himself wasn't looking at her. Which he found was rare.

The Lady Amell returned the next day, and the next week, and when her welcome with the friends of her family she had in the city grew short, she found a place in the house of Magister Danarius, for it seemed that her sharp wit and clever tongue had quite charmed his master.

Meanwhile, Fenris more than noticed her lingering attention on himself.

It was not long after she had begun regularly visiting the magister that she once again requested time alone with Danarius' personal bodyguard. It was unusual enough as it was, and Fenris should have realised the situation earlier when his master had accepted her proposal and Fenris had been issued to accompany her through the streets on what turned out to be a pointless excursion, an errand run into the marketplace that any servant could have accomplished.

With gentle wheedling by this Lady Amell, Danarius allowed her to walk alone with Fenris more often. Sometimes small visits into the city, sometimes just a task in another part of the mansion. Despite the strangeness of this, Fenris couldn't help but appreciate how his duties lessened. Spending time apart from his master was greatly unsettling at first, something he had never experienced for long periods any time in his memory.

The day that they were walking through town and Fenris realised she had taken him on nothing more than a sightseeing tour of the city, he grew anxious. He had no certainty of when they were heading back, no definite plan to follow and he found himself breathing quickly. A tight pressing on his chest, simply from not knowing when they were going home. He berated himself, it was foolish, his master had allowed this separation and he was with Danarius' ward, yet the sound of blood rushing through his ears made it difficult to push the threat of punishment away.

But Lady Amell took his hand as he stared at the ground. He jumped at the contact but she didn't pull back. She smoothed her fingers over his skin, hushing him and led him to a quiet place, off the main street where she sat him down. She talked softly and calmly and his senses came back to him until he took his hand back from hers. She seemed reluctant to relinquish it but he was equally eager to brush this event aside, pretend it had not occurred. He suggested, a little impatiently, that they return to the mansion and she had looked at him sadly but nodded in agreement and followed him home.

She didn't say it, but Fenris knew that she kept finding these excuses to draw him away from Danarius and reluctantly, Fenris began to grow used to it. He began to enjoy her company, her idle and amusing chatter, how she was so very different to his stern, volatile master.

She pried him away from the tight grasp Danarius bound him into, taking him from the rigid regime of service and gave him a strange respite. She was funny and kind, too kind, she would call him by name, tell him to call her Hawke and to look at her, meet her eyes as an equal, not to stare at the ground. She asked about his life. He had to admit, under her urging, that he didn't remember anything before becoming a servant, and the look of disgust and sadness in her face caused him to recoil back. She had quickly reassured Fenris it was not a reaction to him, only the life he was forced to endure. Fenris was taken aback by the fact she was worried she had upset him. After that she kept her questions to what life was like in the service of Danarius.

He couldn't tell her the truth, not all of it, and it was only when he asked himself why that he began to realise the problem he had fallen into. It wasn't out of any loyalty to his master that he kept the cruel beatings and tales of painful, punishing magic to himself. Instead he realised that it was out of fear. Fear that, because she seemed happy here, if he revealed the true nature of the man she was growing closer to, she might run away, leave him to return to the life he thought he had been used to.

He came to realise that when he caught her looking at him, it was because his eyes were already on her. He couldn't help but wonder, was she feeling the same way he did? Only that was ridiculous.

The fear grew in him and he struggled to explain it to himself. He feared that he would lose this spark that had come into his life, the one glimmer of happiness he found as he spoke with her in the solitude of their wanderings, or in the dark of the night when she had convinced Danarius to dismiss him from his chamber. He had never known anything like it. In all his memory, he had never dared to imagine that there would be something he might eagerly look forward to as he did the days when she would take him away all to herself.

Even as he feared more and more that she would leave, he realised that he wanted her to get herself out of here. His strange attachment to her was only increased as he couldn't deny her returned interest in him. Yet that only fed the fear, a dependent relationship like a master that relies on his slaves, while the slaves can't survive without their master. Fenris found that his desire for her safety outgrew the leeching worry that she would leave, he cared more about her being free from Danarius than the selfish desire to keep her close.

Over the months this was happening, Fenris also noticed, to his horror, that Danarius was growing ever closer to her. His master let his guard down more, Hawke managed to get away with more and more, which she used to her advantage in convincing him to let his most trusted slave out of his sight, just for another hour, another evening, another day. Fenris spent more time with Hawke and all the while he watched Danarius falling for her.

And that terrified him.

He began trying to make her leave. He finally admitted the truth of his story that he had been keeping from her. One quiet evening when they were once more alone, hiding in a far wing away from the prying eyes of other servants, he told her of the first memory he could recall. The burning agony of the lyrium implanted under his skin, giving him deadly power unlike any other. He was the result of a dangerous experiment, making him into an even more dangerous prize. He told her how cruelly Danarius treated his slaves. That in the favoured position Fenris was held, he received both the best and the worst of his master's treatment, something that so far Danarius had managed to keep from Hawke, though surely he couldn't keep it private for much longer.

All of this he divulged in the hope Hawke would grow scared herself, fearful of the web she was becoming tangled up in and that she would decide to get herself out of harm's way.

It seemed to work. Hawke began reminding Danarius that her stay was temporary, that she would need to be moving on soon. These murmurings appeared to affect Danarius unexpectedly. Fenris recognised the signs of his master trying to tighten his grip, to hold her to him. Fenris couldn't admit that he didn't want to let her go either, but it was better for everyone involved. Everyone that mattered.

Then she privately told Fenris news that chilled him to the bone at the same time his heart leapt. What he had told her of the true nature of the magister, she had taken as a sign she needed to release them all. In the night she was lit with a fire of determination, an intensity in her he didn't know how to discourage. And when she reached for his face, cupping it in her hands, he didn't flinch away.

He told her he wanted her to leave, he wanted to free her from Danarius.

She kissed him then, a soft tentative press of her lips that allowed him at any moment to pull away, but he pressed back, he pulled her against him and she promised, whispering into his skin, against his throat, that she would see the same for him. She would see him free of Danarius, free to lead his own life. And she wanted to be at his side.

She said that she had seen him at the ball, when she first met Danarius. She had been drawn to him, though she couldn't say why. And she had decided then to follow him, not Danarius and she had only grown to hate Danarius the longer she stayed for the sake of Fenris.

 _No,_ he tried to tell her _. This cause is too big for you. You don't understand what you're getting into._ He knew something in his tone, or his face must have got through because she had held him tenderly then, looking into his eyes, kissing him softly on his eyelids and his cheeks and pressing into his mouth.

 _I have to try. I can't stand by and leave you here. I can't stand to see you in captivity. You are more of a wolf than Danarius understands and wolves need to run free._ But that hadn't been a no. She wasn't going to stop, and Fenris knew terror then. Terror of what Danarius could do to her when he found out what she had been doing all this time.

Even Fenris didn't fully understand the trouble they were in.

It seemed another ordinary day. Danarius and Hawke had broken fast together, had spent the morning walking the gardens of the estate, all while Fenris walked along slightly behind then, unassuming, invisible to his master, and apparently a great distraction to Hawke, who kept reaching out and snagging fingers with his, brushing his hip if he came into reach, and sending small smiles whenever possible. Fenris struggled to believe he had grown used to her touch so quickly, a closeness and contact he had was not aware of ever having known. In only a few months a quick brush of her fingers left his skin tingling, she lingered on him like a warmth he couldn't equate to anything else.

It had been close to 10 months that Hawke had been staying here with Danarius and he could tell she was getting impatient. While he had continued trying to make her turn away, to avoid chaining herself into his captivity she had obstinately stayed, quieted his arguments with the desperate press of her lips against his own, the whispered promise that she was getting him out to come away with her. Their hungry passion for each other was fuelled even further by the secrecy they were forced to keep.

But still she had made no progress, as Fenris had not allowed himself to believe she would. His master was a more powerful man than she began to comprehend and he knew from the moment he started wishing she would stay, that she must leave him behind. Danarius was growing too attached to her, the passion she brought to everything in her life he could see captivated his master just as firmly as it had taken him in.

When Danarius coveted something, he only knew to tether it to himself, to prevent it from flitting away. That is what would crush Hawke.

Their leisurely walk took them to the rear entrance to the house, a grand summer conservatory, occupied by a couple of slaves tending to the plants while a couple more were laying out an extravagant lunch on the dining table in the centre of the room.

As she turned her eyes from the plates of food being laid out for apparently just the two of them, Danarius gestured with a rush of magic and suddenly a gaudy, gold ring appeared in his hand. He held it out with a flourish and Fenris felt his mind sluggishly refusing to comprehend what he saw.

"Catriona Amell, I would take your hand in marriage." The tone of Danarius' voice didn't suggest that the outlandish statement had been intended as a question, a foregone conclusion drawn already in his mind. Time seemed to slow as the monumental meaning of the words settled on Fenris. He closed his eyes and bit his tongue, hard, his fears for Hawke's freedom being painfully realised before him. Even before the words had left Danarius' mouth, the magister was reaching for her hand, so sure he was about to slip the ring onto her finger, another mark for another of his precious possessions.

Fenris' eyes snapped open again when he heard the sharp inhale, a rustle of movement and he saw Hawke drawing her hand out of his master's reach. "You must be joking." She spoke without thinking, and her eyes widened in surprise at her own tactlessness. Fenris tasted blood as he cringed in fear, panic threatening to take him when his mind started running through the possible retributions his master would bring down on her. Even so, he held his tongue, shamed at himself for the cowardice, the weakness trained into him that stopped him from standing up to the man.

"Excuse me?" Danarius replied, shock temporarily containing the fury that was sure to come. Hawke gaped back at him, Fenris could see her marvellous mind whirling to somehow backpedal and defuse the situation. There was still a chance that she might be able to brush her response off as a joke, another part of this long game they had been playing that she just about to leave Tevinter.

Surely that was the reason Danarius had made this offer, was it not. To make her stay, to keep her contained in his fancy cage.

What didn't help the situation was Fenris being unable to control his roiling emotions, the waves of terror and sheer helplessness rooting him to the spot and at the same time rippling down his body in a visible display of cursed blue light.

Danarius began to turn around, Fenris realising with a desperate exhale that drawing the attention of the mage would at least delay his wrath falling on Hawke, giving her more time, a chance to come up with another pretty lie that would placate Danarius for longer. Perhaps he could draw out most of his master's anger and he would be able to talk to her more calmly. It was the best chance Fenris could give her.

But in that moment Hawke began talking again.

"That's not what I want, Danarius. I didn't come here to marry, and I certainly didn't come here to marry someone like _you_."

"And what do you mean by that?" His voice curled dangerously across the quiet that had fallen over the scene. The wind in the garden and the bustle of slaves behind the doors seemed muted as Fenris couldn't take his eyes from Hawke.

"What I mean is that I am not some prize for you to display on your shelf, some foreign girl to take out and show off at parties. I want to be free to move on and live my life, though freedom is a luxury you don't seem to understand."

"Tell me, do you think speaking in riddles will help me understand you."

Fenris watched as she bit her lip, hoping that she would back down, before things went too far. He recognised the tight frown pulling down her brow however, and he knew she had already determined her path. He couldn't change her mind now.

"Then I'll speak plainly. You can't keep me here when I don't want to stay and I absolutely _do not_ want to stay with you." Fenris saw as Danarius's shoulders stiffened, the only indication he could get from the man's back of how he was responding to this rare event of someone standing up to him. And in response, Hawke's face tightened sharply.

Fenris' mind raced through all the things that were about to go wrong. He wanted to stop Hawke, to just make her _run_ and save herself. He didn't want to see Danarius turn his rapidly rising fury on her. He wished that she had never come to this place, that he could have never had the small glimpse of happiness that this past few months had brought him. He never deserved her and he was about to lose her. He didn't know whether he could return to the mindless servitude he had endured for as long as he could remember.

Danarius began to sneer, the tone of his voice causing Fenris to flinch in preparation for his wrath. "You forget your place, Lady Amell."

"I don't _want_ a _place_! I don't want to be another of your possessions. Another trophy for the case. I couldn't marry a man who doesn't have a scrap of warmth in his heart. You take pleasure in belittling others, in causing pain and only cares how much people fear him! You disgust me."

"Silence, girl! I offer you the privilege of being at my side, even despite your complete lack of magic, and you turn around and insult me like this. You will not walk away from this."

Fenris saw the rage in Danarius, a sudden stiffness of his shoulders as Hawke had spoken. He realised, as he should have known all along, that his master truly did feel some affection for Riona Amell. Or as much as Fenris could imagine Danarius feeling, like the attraction of a magpie to a glittering jewel, rather than the pure love and adoration that Fenris knew Hawke deserved. The real Hawke, not the persona she had created for these marbled Tevinter halls.

Fenris could control himself no longer as he saw Hawke draw breath for another verbal assault, desperate as he was to try and get her out of harm's way. He clung desperately to the hope that maybe she would still be able to go back to the life she had before she came here.

"Hawke, stop!" He called out and Danarius took a step to the side, twisting finally so that he could see both Hawke and Fenris at once. This was when Fenris saw the twisted snarl on his master's face, the ugly wave of anger held barely at bay and Fenris knew that they had passed the point of anyone getting out of here safely. He would have frozen in deeply ingrained terror, except that small realisation gave him an unexpected sense of relief.

There was a freedom in surrendering to an inevitable fate.

Danarius' face reddened further if that was possible, his words coming from tightly clenched teeth, "Hawk! Don't think I haven't heard him calling you that. I should have seen you were lying all along. Tell me, is the Lady Amell aware you've stolen her name, flaunting it to suit your own purpose? A pity, your name was the only worthy thing about you"

Fenris was incensed. "She is worth more than you can imagine! More than you could possibly achieve."

Danarius' eyes turned towards him, and Fenris battled with the urge to turn and flee, or cower. Instead, he tried to keep his head facing up, as Hawke had shown him, to meet his master's cold, grey eyes. This fight wasn't about him. This time, he was fighting for Hawke, and that was a cause he knew he could believe in.

Danarius looked at Fenris incredulously. The raw disdain in his expression made it appear as though he were deciding the correct balance of anger and scorn to answer with, his face grimacing with a sneer.

"My little wolf grows teeth! You have become rather protective over this pretty little thing." He purred, clearly amused. "How charming."

"Fenris is ten times the man you could be." Hawke spoke up immediately, as Fenris curled back his lip, snarling. "I'd rather take a wolf than a snake!"

Danarius' fingers flexed noticeably at his side, Fenris recognised the itch of magic crackling across his skin and it struck a familiar terror through him, strangling the words in his throat before he could argue again. Some feelings just heralded _danger._ Some lessons were too ingrained to oppose.

"You have been tricked. Some thoughtless joke? You couldn't possibly imagine a slave was really a person." Danarius looked genuinely confounded, this was a thought beyond any kind of comprehension and it was as if he as waiting for Hawke to take it all back and accept his proposal.

"I feel the same way he does. I love him. Of course someone who couldn't understand real love would mistake it for a trick."

Fenris met her eyes at these words, sure he must have misheard her. She was staring fiercely back at him, her bright eyes shining fervently, waiting for him to look up at her, as she always did. Waiting for him to meet her gaze, to see himself as her equal. The words were beyond understanding and at the same time, they meant everything to him.

"Hawke…" He had to tell her, he felt the same way, the words were so simple and to just tell her the same-

"You have played your game, hawk but you don't understand the rules. This isn't your game anymore."

Fenris looked back to his master and his heart stopped as he saw the movement of the staff, never far from the magister's hand. He brandished it in a wide arc and the slave inside the door let out a soft gasp, fingers clutching at his throat.

Hawke let out an anguished yell, dismay hitting her as she immediately saw she could do nothing to save the hapless victim. Fenris didn't move. He knew all too well that it was already too late.

Danarius let out a vicious noise as he swept his staff across in a sharp movement, the crack of magic letting loose and in an unstoppable moment, blood flew from the poor elf's throat and his lifeless body fell with a muted thud to the floor. The blood flowed freely, rolling out towards Danarius, swishing around him in a gruesome whirlpool of vital life power, concentrating finally above him before draining down into his staff.

"Is this the freedom you wanted? Is that slave not free?" Hawke stood, one hand still slightly outreached to the limp body of the slave on the ground, the other clenched at her side. Her eyes turned from the body slowly, almost palpable fury directed back to the magister.

Fenris felt it, Hawke was radiating anger, a force that even without magic, seemed to rival the power of the magister facing opposite her. The air between them was electric, quaking where their wills met.

"You disgust me. Your answer to someone finally standing up to you is to murder an innocent, unrelated…"

"They are all the same. Like a petty child who can't see the sacrifices that must be made for the betterment of her superiors. They are here for one purpose alone. To serve me. They would not have a purpose if not for what I give them."

"You think you're helping them? You're more deluded than I thought. This is between you and me, Danarius. Leave them out of this."

"You brought them into this, girl. My slaves give their lives to my service. And I will use that," He reached out again, another elven slave within the conservatory fell to her knees, fingers sputtering uselessly over the gaping wound in her throat, "to teach you some respect."

"Stop!" Hawke cried out, Fenris remained with his hands at his sides, terrified, with his eyes uselessly fixed on the serving girl. The tray she had been carrying rolled across the floor, contents flowing and mingling across the marble while her blood, once freed of its host, followed the previous lifestream to Danarius' staff. The tip glowed as it absorbed the thick, red liquid.

"You lie to my face, aim to humiliate me in my own courts, try to turn my little wolf against me and expect to get away with it. You will learn what it means to try to outwit a magister."

"No!" Fenris couldn't hold his tongue, stepping forward again, the marks already flickering in anguish across his skin flaring in intensity and a hand reached out towards the man now brandishing his staff.

Then he saw the slightest movement of Danarius' eyes, and his body stiffened, no longer following his command to move forward, despite his most strenuous attempts. He was instead suddenly imprisoned, helpless and hopeless, inside his own glowing skin. Caught in the act of turning on his master.

He felt his knees buckle, he dropped to the ground and was looking up at Hawke. He was going to die and he selfishly wanted to look on her face in his final moments, wishing that instead of white faced terror, he saw the bright, easy smile that he had cherished over the last few months.

She had not changed position, he wondered whether that was also Danarius's doing, until she stepped forwards once more, this time turning towards him.

"Please, no! Let him go!" Her voice was rough, pleading, desperate.

"To think I believed I had feelings for a Free Marcher brat. Someone so deplorable you would steal another's name and fall for a pathetic slave such as this." He snarled.

"Danarius, don't hurt him! Do what you want with me." Hawke stepped tentatively forwards again, hands stretching slightly forward, as if offering herself.

"It is far too late for that. Even with whatever you really are, street rat or noble as you claim, you two are from very different worlds." Danarius was manic, Fenris had never seen him this angry and in this state even he couldn't fathom what the magister's next move would be. "As different as night and day. You believe you could belong with him. Selfish, ridiculous girl, you came to me. You cannot turn me aside so easily."

"Danarius…" Her eyes were fixed on Fenris who was still frozen, though he could feel himself breathing heavily, enough movement left in his body to tremble under the force of his master's magic.

"You cannot dare treat me like this. I thought you better than that, Amell. Hawk. Whatever you really are!"

She ran to stand in front of Fenris, falling to the ground to throw her arms around him, as if to protect him from the power Danarius had been charging into his staff.

Danarius stared at them for a moment, anger clear in his eyes but something else lurking in his expression.

"You truly believe you care for him, don't you?"

"I do." She said simply, Fenris could hear the tremble in her voice, the weakness she knew was a mistake to reveal. But in this position he could do nothing to warn her to leave him, save herself.

"You would do anything for him?" The man sneered, his voice giving way to a manic peal of laughter.

"Yes. Please Danarius." She was crying, he heard it now.

"Then you are no better than he is. You wish to align yourself with him, then you deserve the same treatment. I'll make sure you can't trick anyone else again, playing games with their heads. Everyone will see you for what you really are. A liar, a wicked temptress. You, hawk, can never have what you want."

He reached out then, his staff brandished before them. Fenris felt Hawke cringe above him, trying to throw her weight around him further, to protect him of all things.

Then the familiar trickle of magic ran through him, spreading all through his body like an unstoppable sickness, drowning his senses. He prepared for the onset of pain, the wrath that Danarius had finally brought down on them.

But it was Hawke who cried out.

Her arms stiffened around him, clenched as if frozen in place. She let out a noise that sounded animalistic, a shriek of pain, terror, anguish, he couldn't place. Fenris was released from whatever curse had been holding him in place, at the same time as Hawke flew backwards, landing heavily, dragged partway back towards Danarius.

Fenris wrenched forward after her, taking her hand, still outstretched in his direction. She gripped him in return, a tight claw grasping blindly around his hand and he felt his bones protesting under the unyielding grip, almost enough to draw a gasp from him, had he not learnt to withhold signs of his suffering.

"Stop!" Fenris cried, the sight of her features twisting in agony held his eyes as firmly as any spell Danarius could have cast on him. "Don't toy with her! Just kill us like you plan to!" He raised his voice to be heard over the sound of Hawke wailing on the ground. He wanted anything to end this suffering for her. Even the release of death. Perhaps Danarius wanted him to beg for it, after his display of 'releasing' the slaves.

Even as he tried to form the words, ready to prostrate himself at his master's feet, he felt something change. Around his fingers Hawke's hands, her very bones, began to shift. Her vice-like grip on his loosened and he pulled back, keeping a light touch on her skin and at the same time repulsed by whatever torture his master was inflicting upon her.

"Please! Stop this!" He recognised the reversal in their roles, pleading Danarius to stop hurting Hawke, despite the fact I t had made no difference on the magister's verdict before, Fenris was still willing to try. Anything. "Danarius! Master?"

Only at the last word did Danarius even react as if he noticed Fenris was there. The manic smile he had sported as he savoured whatever he was doing to Hawke shifted and he raised his eyebrow to look at Fenris for the first time.

"You have shown you have no loyalty to me, slave. She has ruined my little wolf and for that you will both regret the day you tried to defy me." He twisted his staff and Hawke gave out one last, desperate shriek, curling into a tight ball as if trying to hold her body together.

In a movement that was too quick for the eye to follow, it seemed as if her body continued collapsing inwards on itself, her form crumpling before him, into nothingness. Grey smoke licked and curled around her and although he couldn't draw his eyes away she was obscured from his sight.

Before he could shout out, or even process what had happened, something burst from the centre of the fog, shooting straight into the air. Fenris followed the movement upwards and his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the sky.

All he saw, circling the garden at a low height and screeching out its long, strident call, was a hawk.

Fenris frowned against the sun, blinking. He glanced down at what was now simply a pile of clothes at his master's feet, then finally his stunned expression rose up to his master's face.

"What…?" He couldn't comprehend what he had just seen, the bird still circling in his gaze behind Danarius' head.

"I told you, your precious Hawke would not be playing her tricks any longer. She was so bold to spurn my affections, everything I could have given her. Instead she thought to choose _you_ , a slave, a stain on my estate, a nothing. The sheer insolence. But now, no one will have her, least of all you. You will never look upon your beloved's face again." He had that same eerie grin on his face, like a madman. Fenris should have feared what might happen next but there was one thought that circled through his head with the lazy loops of the bird above them.

"She is alive." Fenris could not focus on much beyond that simple fact. It had seemed that this was the end but now, as long as a heart beat in her chest, there was surely hope.

"Alive, yes. As are you. I'm going to make you wish I had given you the sweet release of death." Fenris frowned up at the magister, speechless, their eyes fixed on each other. He was wary, waiting, but Danarius did not make any move towards him. There was not death in his eyes, or anger. Instead, something far more terrifying—hunger, some amused glint that was a joke Fenris didn't want to know the punchline to.

"Now run, take your Hawke, or what you can catch of her." Danarius grinned darkly. "Happy hunting, wolf."

Fenris did not question and he did not look back.

* * *

 **Whoops, i went away and forgot to update this. I was meant to be on schedule this time. Anyway, thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hawke awoke, sharp grit digging into her knees and palms. It was dim, just gone dark, her head was spinning and she was—naked.

She hastily looked around herself, she was outdoors and there had to be something she could use to cover herself. A piece of material hung next to her head and she reached up for it, dragging it from the top of crate it was protruding from and finding it was a shawl, large enough to fashion some kind of modesty for herself.

She pulled her legs up and tried to stand, worry darting through her thoughts when her legs gave way beneath her, unsteadily quaking and refusing to take her weight.

She wrapped the rich cloth around herself and instead dragged herself to the side, leaning against the wall of the alley she found herself in. First, she decided she had to sort through her thoughts, pull together a memory of how she had come to be here.

And that was when she saw a dark figure silhouetted by the light shining in from the street beyond, a figure that appeared to be facing her way.

 _Danarius._

A memory of the argument came flashing back and she recoiled sharply, grazing her shoulder against the wall and biting her lip at the raw pain. The figure took a step forward with his arm outstretched, ready for attack.

"Hey, woah there," A voice that was definitely not Danarius called out. "I'm not going to hurt you." The voice was low, gravelly but something about it sounded strangely familiar. The figure stepped forward once again, clearly approaching with caution.

"Who are you?" she demanded, and her throat protested, feeling rough as a gravel courtyard.

"Varric Tethras, at your service." He stepped forward again and once she accounted for the fact she was still crouched on the ground, she realised that he was a dwarf, a finely tailored dwarf, with his dirty blond hair neatly pulled back behind his head. He didn't seem at all perturbed by her brusqueness, and was either unaffected by or politely ignoring her lack of clothes. "That was quite a tumble I saw, I wanted to check you were still with us."

Her mind floundered still, grasping fragmented memories that seemed to stop with Danarius, and pain and hands grasping hers and shouting her name. "Where's Fenris?"

"Fenris… ah, you mean the wolf?"

"Don't call him that." She replied, without thinking, angry and surprised to hear the demeaning moniker on someone else's lips.

"Okay, whatever you say but it just seemed to fit." Before she could come up with another retort, or begin to worry that perhaps news of their escape - however that had happened - had spread into the city already, the dwarf stepped to the side. He gestured with one hand to a shape moving behind him and Riona frowned down at the silhouetted form.

It prowled closer, slunk low to the ground and brushing near enough to Varric that he shifted uneasily away. It didn't turn to look at him though, eyes fixed, she assumed although he was lit only from behind, on her.

It was a white wolf.

She frowned then, scared to look away from it in case it moved to attack but chancing a glance up at the dwarf.

"What is this?" She hissed between clenched teeth. "What is a wolf doing in the city?"

"I assumed you'd be the one telling me that, truthfully. I followed you in here because, well I don't like to miss things, and then this guy wouldn't let me leave. Just kept…herding me." He said, rubbing his neck tensely in a way that belied his jovial tone.

Riona looked up at him in bewilderment. "What would I know—?" she started, still looking at the wolf, edging closer towards her from the dwarf's side.

"Look, I think we both have a lot of questions, and my place is just around the corner. It might be a little more comfortable than this alley, unless broken glass and stale piss is your style." He suggested and stepped forward, slightly away from the wolf. Hawke gave him another wary look, but he wore an encouraging smile on his face and he was already shrugging his jacket from his shoulders, holding it out to her.

Walking her hands up the wall, Riona decided that her legs felt slightly steadier under her. She pulled his jacket around herself, huffing slightly as the garment made for his barrel shaped chest dwarfed her slight frame. With a pointed look at the dwarf, she turned her back and rearranged the shawl to cover her legs. Satisfied with the result, she turned back and looked down at her mysterious helper, trying to hide the fact her sudden spin had upset her balance.

Without a word, the dwarf reached out to take her hand and put it on his shoulder. She wanted to protest but couldn't deny that the help was appreciated and so she leaned a little more of her weight onto him. Trying to make their position look natural, she nodded down at him to move on and they headed towards the lamplit street.

"So, do you have a name I can call you?" The dwarf started conversationally.

Her suspicious mind raced through her possible options. Most people knew her as Amell here, she wasn't even sure Danarius had realised it was her name, probably just assumed it was a cover. "Hawke." What she didn't expect was for the dwarf to respond with a bark of laughter.

"Right, I get it."

"Get what?" She peered down at him in confusion, distracted with the thought that her feet seemed to be regaining their normal movement, like they were just remembering what exactly they were meant to do.

"Hawke, with the whole…" He trailed off as he looked up at her still mystified expression and he waved his hand. "Let's just get inside. Then we'll discuss things that need to be discussed."

They walked only as far as the next street when Varric turned the corner and rustled in his jacket for keys. As they navigated the turn, Riona happened to look back and in the shadows, pressed against the wall of the houses they had passed, the wolf followed them.

It's eyes were still definitely fixed on her.

Outside a small, unassuming door, Varric stopped and let them into the house. As he held the door and Hawke stepped forward, suddenly the wolf slunk past her leg and darted in before them, causing both Riona and the dwarf to let out a hasty noise of alarm. However, as soon as it was inside, the beast turned and sat down, facing them with it's head slightly cocked, expectantly.

"I hope your friend is trained." The dwarf drawled as he pulled the door closed behind them, letting Riona take in the cluttered one-room accommodation she found herself in with these two strange companions. Varric immediately headed for a wardrobe at the side of the bed, while Riona looked around.

Instead of the many items and parchments cluttering the surfaces near her, Hawke found herself looking once more at the wolf sat staring back at her. It was as big, perhaps even bigger than her own mabari at home, with a rich fur coat a ghostly white. Even as she looked it over, she felt it's own inquisitiveness, watching her, observing her every move. She took a step forward, and it gave no reaction.

She tried again and crouched slowly, not making any sudden moves, until she was on an eye level with it.

And it stared back. Intelligent eyes that seemed to be waiting for her to do something, eyes of the most intense green.

 _Oh._

But it couldn't be…

"So, these might be a little short, but it's warm here in the city. And I've got a belt you can cinch in to keep them up." The dwarf's voice cut across her thoughts and the deep spell between her and the wolf's gaze was broken. "Sorry, it's not the latest Tevinter fashion. The robemakers don't seem to cater to dwarves." He chuckled and returned to her as she stood to face him, thrusting a pair of trousers into her hands, along with a shirt and a couple of different leather belts.

She quickly and gratefully headed towards the screen she spotted in the corner of the room, perhaps more lacy and decorative than completely functional, but she noticed the dwarf tactfully turn the other way.

As she unfastened Varric's large jacket and let the makeshift skirt fall to the floor, she began talking out into the room.

"So, the wolf _isn't_ yours?"

"Hmph, I'm not much for pets that could tear me open because they're having a rough day. No, it appeared as soon as I went into that alleyway."

"It did?"

"Wouldn't let me leave either. At that point I'd already seen you, becoming you." Varric let out a slight chuckle at that moment as she pondered his strange phrase. "It seemed almost as surprised at that, if I can tell what a surprised wolf looks like."

"Well, I'm grateful for the help you've given me. I would pay you for the clothes except my money was…"

She came out from behind the screen then, having arranged the shirt and used the extra belt over the top to make something halfway presentable, then she stopped when she caught sight of the wolf. It was now sat in just a few feet from the screen, as if waiting just for her, his green eyes respectfully turned down. A habit she still hadn't been able to completely break.

No. She couldn't think that, it was completely beyond reason. Still, the hasty farewell Riona had been about to make died on her lips and she focused instead on the dwarf and the feeling that she was missing something incredibly important going on. She moved to take the seat opposite the dwarf, soft footsteps padded behind her.

"The wolf led you into in that alley?"

"Not exactly, he was just there after I'd spotted you."

"And you don't know how I got there? You didn't see me go in?"

At this, Varric blinked, a strange smile touching his expression. "Well, I could take a guess."

"What? How?"

"Well, Hawke, I think you flew."

"What?" She stared at him blankly, worried that perhaps she'd willingly walked straight into the home of a lunatic.

"The thing is, you haven't actually asked me _why_ I stayed to help you." He leaned forward with his arms on the table between them, the look on his face reminding Hawke of the expression her mother's friends had when they were about to share a particularly juicy piece of gossip. "You see, it wasn't a woman I saw in that alley. I saw a hawk. Just a garden variety, dirty brown hawk. That was, until it starting shedding feathers like a randy dowager and grew into a naked human."

Riona stared at him for a long moment, looking him up and down, trying to decide how best to respond.

"Okay, maybe you think you saw that, but you realise that's crazy talk, right?" Tactfully, as usual.

"You think I could make up something like that? I'm good, but I'm not that good."

"So you expect me to believe I was a bird? And I don't remember?"

"I'm going to guess from your reaction that you weren't expecting your Fenris to be a wolf, either." Varric nodded at her side and she looked to see that the white beast was now lying next to her chair. When their attentions turned to it, the creature looked up, straight at Hawke with those eerily familiar green eyes. "Because let me tell you, he didn't calm down like this until the moment you woke up."

More than anything else the dwarf had said, looking at the wolf by her side made her consider what she was being told. It couldn't be possible and yet, she couldn't remember how she got to the alley. She didn't know where Fenris was, or where this wolf had come from. Danarius had been _so_ angry… she remembered pain.

"Fenris?" Her voice was uncertain but she felt something, some kind of creeping certainty as she studied him.

The wolf whined. His eyes remained steadily on hers. "Fenris!" His tail thumped encouragingly twice against the floor of the shack and he sat up. In a moment she was on the ground next to him, forgetting completely that this was a wolf, a creature that should be feared. Her hands were in his thick, pale fur, in the ruff around his neck, held his muzzle to face her and she choked out a weak sob, relief and loss tearing her thoughts apart.

"What did he do to you, Fenris? I'm sorry." Her arms looped around his neck, she buried her face into his fur, her words becoming muffled. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault."

She held him for a time like that, the wolf nuzzled against her and she felt his tongue on her back, where he could reach. Reluctantly she let her arms fall from the wolf's neck but kept one hand on him as she turned back to the dwarf, now sat fiddling at the table and unashamedly watching them.

"You think he made me a hawk, as well?"

"I don't think. I saw. And it does rather work, wouldn't you say? Certainly adds a facetious flair."

"But then why am I me again? Because knowing Danarius, it didn't just wear off." She thought out loud, turning back to look at the wolf but a sputtering noise drew her attention back to Varric.

"Danarius?" He exclaimed. "The Danarius? Huge mansion, waving his big staff all over town Danarius? Oh Hawke, what have you got yourself involved in?"

"I'm sorry. I can go, you won't see me again. I mean, that's the plan anyway."

"Hey, woah! You can't go out there magic blazing and sword half-drawn. I only asked a question, I wasn't throwing you out." Varric held out his hands pacifyingly.

"You—I mean, we're not safe to be around." She took in his nonplussed expression and sighed. "It's a long story."

"The best ones are."

Hawke smiled hesitantly up at the dwarf then, who only seemed to be more invested as the danger he was in increased.

She explained, as best as she was able, the circumstances leading up to the argument with Danarius but then her memories grew hazier.

"Fenris tried to defend me, he actually stood up to Danarius and that alone must have terrified him. The man is a tyrant, and cruel and wicked and bloodthirsty but Fenris has seen the worst of it. I don't know how I could stand to be around him for as long as I was." She paused and her hand lightly stroked where it had remained in Fenris' fur for the duration of the telling. She looked back at him, letting the intense surge of feelings she had for him overwhelm her, and her voice softened. "No, I know why."

"He's really something special to you, isn't he?"

"I love him, with everything I have." She spoke without pausing to think. As she had in front of Danarius. "Danarius couldn't recognise something like that if it bit him in the ass. No, he took it as some personal affront and he was crazed. Then Fenris called me Hawke, he thought my identity was another thing I was hiding from him."

"He wouldn't be completely wrong."

"Well…no. But it wasn't what he thought. I was never there to hurt him and maybe I figured he deserved whatever he got when I realised just what kind of man he really was, but that was never—now we're…"

"And now you're here." The dwarf summarised with a dramatic flourish. Riona gave him a steady look.

"Why are you helping me? Now you know I've got the scariest guy in town out for my…something. Surely you want me out of your life so you can pretend you never got involved?"

"Hawke, you don't know me, so let me summarise. I'm a writer, people like to hear me tell interesting stories. Now, after a few good tales, the only way you can come up with more interesting stories is when you've done interesting things. This isn't really the kind of opportunity I can pass up. Call it…living vicariously." He grinned then, and Hawke couldn't help but respond in kind, it was such an honest expression.

"So you're going to write a story about me, is that it?"

"Well, there might be something inspired by you. Nothing that might be recognisable." Varric waved a hand dismissively. She narrowed her eyes, unconvinced and he didn't acknowledge her wordless reproof.

"It might be a little difficult to make a story about someone turning into a hawk anonymous. There can't be that many around."

"I'll call her Sparrow."

"That's nowhere near majestic enough."

"You wouldn't call it majestic if you'd seen the way you crash landed in that alley." Riona couldn't help but laugh. Varric had laid out a couple of bandages and scissors on the table and Hawke finally released her hold on Fenris so that she could clean the length of grazed skin on her forearm that she had only noticed was paining her as she got changed.

As she cut a strip of fabric and started wrapping it around her arm, she looked up at Varric again, a serious expression back on her face. "I need to get out of town."

"I know."

"Danarius could have eyes anywhere. If he hasn't killed all his slaves in some kind of petty vengeance." She grimaced as the chilling thought just occurred to her. All the lives she didn't save. How selfish that just she and Fenris had got out, as far as she knew.

"I can't speak to that, but at the moment we have no idea what his plan is. We don't know what he was aiming for when he did this to you two."

"No, but there's no way he's just let us go."

"It seems unlikely based on what I've heard about him. But you're in luck. I know what just might be your best chance of a way out."

"I can't ask you to endanger yourself by helping us more than you already have." She tried to interrupt but he waved her off.

"I'm doing this for entirely selfish reasons, remember? Need to get enough inspiration to make my next paycheck." He grinned again and leaned forward on the table. "Now, early tomorrow, before the city wakes up, we need to get down to the docks."

"The docks? If you're thinking about smuggling us onto a ship, no chance. These Tevinter captains are vigilant about stowaways and will not haggle a fair price."

"Spoken from true experience, but I'm not talking just any old ship, or even anything illegal." Varric countered good-humouredly. "I wasn't going to stay in this blighted city for longer than I had to so I made sure to have a way out. And luckily there are plenty of people who owe me big so—you don't need to know the details but what I'm saying is I can get you out."

"You're from Kirkwall!" She exclaimed abruptly, the odd familiarity she had felt in the back of her mind suddenly clicking into place when she realised he wasn't from Tevinter.

"Yes I am, you know it?" Varric beamed widely. If she didn't know the city, she might even think he was proud.

"I live there." She laughed and Varric immediately gave her a curious stare.

"I don't know any Hawke's."

""Well, no. It's my father's name." She suddenly remembered her earlier hesitation. Although she already felt more comfortable with this Varric, she decided to hold back on giving him any more information than he strictly needed. She had probably already said too much. "But if you really can get me out of here, I would be in your debt." She smirked, "I guess I'd be someone else to add to your list."

The sense of relief she felt that maybe, just maybe they might get out of here was lightening her mood until she felt more like herself than she had in hours. Not surprising, since apparently some of those hours she'd spent as a bird. "Get me out of here and you can have anything."

"Any time for a fellow Kirkwaller. I'll find some way for you to repay me, you can count on it. For now though, if we want to get out of town without being seen, we need to be up early. And I need my beauty sleep. Maybe one day that'll start making me pretty."

As Hawke chuckled, the dwarf then rose and gathered away the bandages and salve from the table before heading to a cupboard, from which he drew a large, folded blanket.

"You can take the bed, sounds like you've earned it more than me." Only as he spoke did Hawke notice the lack of a second bed in what was a very small dwelling.

"You don't have to, Varric. I…"

"I insist. Your delicate sensibilities won't cope with a hard floor after the luxury I assume you've been staying in, by the looks of the rich estates at the other end of town."

"No, Varric, really." Hawke spoke resolutely and when Varric looked up at her tone she reached her hand out to the wolf beside her again. "I'd rather sleep on the floor."

Varric barely paused before nodding, then he placed the rug out on the table between them. "Okay, but don't come complaining to me when you have a stiff neck in the morning. I have far more padding me from the floor."

Hawke said nothing but was intensely grateful for the easy acceptance with which Varric seemed to understand her wishes. She retrieved the shawl she had used in the alleyway, arranged the blanket into a suitable nest on the uneven, dusty floor and then covered herself with the thin piece of material. It was a warm enough country that she didn't need to worry about getting cold in the night.

Varric climbed into his bed a little while after Riona with a quiet goodnight then blew out the candle. Hawke didn't reply, curled on her side and with her back to him, he had probably assumed she was already asleep but she felt far from the Fade at that moment. Her mind raced, finally beginning to process the revelations of the evening.

Fenris, her wonderful Fenris, was now padding around the small room on silent paws, thoroughly exploring the home of this strange, inexplicably kindhearted dwarf. He was a wolf, she had been a hawk but for some reason Danarius' spell on her seemed to have worn off.

It was certainly still affecting Fenris, however.

Hawke strained her memory as hard as she could, but her recollection remained resolutely blank from the moment she felt the magic rushing over her, the intense pain like nothing she had ever felt before saturating through her very bones. Even the thought of it now caused her to curl tighter in on herself, a harsh exhale of breath escaping her. In response the white wolf whined quietly from the other side of the room and Riona let out a sad chuckle in response, a moment of despair at the impossibility of their situation.

The thought crossed her mind that maybe Fenris' curse would expire as hers had but she quickly pushed that hope aside. Danarius had been so furious. Riona had felt the magic crackling through the air, she had seen the way he had taken the lives of those poor elves without a thought and she had been terrified by the display of his power. She had felt her own fury in the moment and how it mirrored that of the magister. His equal determination would have made him ensure that he wouldn't make a mistake like that. Fenris wouldn't be changing back.

Not unless she did something about it.

Riona sighed deeply to herself. She had no idea what she might be able to do. She had to get them out of town, as the first priority. After that, she could focus on any sort of plan. But she knew Danarius' reach was dangerously large and it would be no small feat to escape him completely.

Her mind continued to chase loops around itself as she waited in the darkness. She couldn't say how long she lay there but eventually she felt a warm weight against her back. The wolf, Fenris, had finally come to settle down and he curled alongside her, she felt herself being enveloped in his warm fur and even in this warm climate, she couldn't bear to pull away.

She had Fenris, he was here and they were out of Danarius' mansion. If they were together, she knew that they would find a way through.

With that thought finally silencing the rest of her tired mind, she slipped away to the Fade.

"Hawke—Hawke, you'd better wake up."

Riona opened her eyes to the unfamiliar golden eyes peering at her above a wide, crooked nose.

"Varric?" She mumbled, head slowly catching up to her surroundings. "Oh, here I hoped it was all a dream." She moaned and dropped her head back to her arm. There was a movement behind her, a cool draught reaching her back and then a wet nose intruded unpleasantly on her ear. She leapt forwards with a yelp and then turned back around to reach for Fenris.

"No such luck. But we need to get you out of here. It's going to be light soon." Hawke sighed in reply and sat up, holding the great white head in both hands and staring into Fenris' eyes.

"Not a dream." Riona muttered, just between them. She stood determinedly and turned to Varric. "Okay, you have a plan?"

"I didn't say that. But I have something more than you did." Varric had his head deep in the wardrobe.

"Then, you have breakfast?" Riona's stomach made itself known and Varric chuckled.

"Sure, there's some bread and fruits under the pot over there." He gestured vaguely with one hand as he withdrew from the wardrobe, something held in the other.

Riona gratefully grabbed for a sweet pear, only now realising that she hadn't eaten since breakfast the previous day. At least, that she could remember.

Meanwhile, Varric had apparently been searching for a bag and was now filling it with items from around his cabin, some clothes, a few pieces of food, a coin purse. All the time, Fenris stayed close by Riona's side, his eyes fixed on Varric bustling around the small space. In a matter of minutes, he had gathered everything he needed and Riona had replaced her belt and shoes that she had removed for bed.

At the door, Varric pressed the bag on her.

"What? No, this is yours." Riona protested immediately, hesitant to take anything more from the dwarf.

"Trust me, any hero setting off on their adventure needs supplies. And it's nothing I'm that attached to."

"I saw you put money in there."

"I can get more. Just stay quiet and take it. We need to get moving." He forced the bag into her hands again and pushed the door open.

Setting her face into an unimpressed grimace, Riona hooked the bag over her shoulder and followed him through the small entrance into the still, dark street beyond.

Their footsteps echoed back at them, making Riona obsessively check over her shoulder every few paces to see if they were being followed. The rare lantern that remained lit from the previous night threw shadows down alleyways that could be mistaken as a predator waiting to pounce.

They stepped hurriedly and silently through the streets, talking too much of a risk. Turning onto a street with a clear view to the eastern port, where Varric had been leading them, Riona could see the many ships harboured there. On the horizon beyond there was a hint of the sky lightening, the beginning of the new day inexplicably causing hope to bubble up as the colour spread across the morning haze.

They increased their pace down the street, still keeping to the shadows that in the approach of daylight would soon be gone. Then Riona heard the scratch and stumble of claws on the cobbled ground. She turned to see Fenris frozen in place in the middle of the street.

His legs were stiffened and straight, his head hung low and his ears were pulled back in distress. He let out a low whine and Riona stepped to his side, watching his eyes lift to meet hers.

"Fenris what is it?" She looked nervously around as the grey light before the dawn hung around them and the sounds of life could be heard stirring around them. As a gull called out to the morning, Riona grabbed Fenris by the scruff of his neck and tried to pull him into a smaller side alley, behind one of those well concealed entrances she had learnt to spot. "Please don't do this to me."

She could feel him breathing heavily and as she bent down she could hear the low whine he was making.

"Hawke, what's up?" Varric hissed, following them into the side street and looking over his shoulder anxiously.

She didn't answer, running her hands soothingly over Fenris, trying to feel for any obvious sign of his ailment. She stubbornly ignored the throbbing sensation that had just started at the base of her skull.

"We need to keep moving." Varric said, but tempered at her backwards glance, "Is he okay?"

"I don't know, I don't really have much experience in the whole 'looking after your wolf lover' thing." She snapped back, the pressure growing in her head because what she really needed was something else to worry about. She sat in front of him, hands on either side of his neck and trying to look into his eyes.

Fenris stepped forwards slightly, his head coming to rest on Riona's shoulder and she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers burying into his colourless fur. She leaned her head against his own and pushed back at the persistent throbbing in her skull.

"I don't know what's happening. I can't do anything." She said weakly into his fur.

The feeling grew on her, a kind of twitching under her skin, pressing outwards like something inside her didn't fit properly. Before her attention was dragged wholly to her own problems she felt Fenris shift his head against hers and something under his skin…moved.

She began to draw back, stricken with concern.

"Fenris-Varric, what—?" For a moment there was something under her hands that felt less like fur, more like hair. Then her mind was drawn away, pulled inside herself where a conflict was occurring. She was her but something in her mind was not her, trying to take over. Her skin felt wrong, stretched and it itched.

It couldn't be that, not again.

"Oh sh-"

In her dim awareness, she heard Varric complete her sentiment before her mind was not her own.

* * *

 **Thanks again for reading, hope you're enjoying it**


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh, oh that is a whole load of ass I did not need this early in the morning." The voice came from behind him and Fenris whirled around into a crouch to face the new threat. Only realising his mistake when it felt like his head kept spinning after his body came to a stop, he had to throw out his hands on either side of him to stay upright.

"What do you want?" He growled and the dwarf he was facing held up a hand between them, covering his view of Fenris.

He took a breath and tried to quickly assess his surroundings. The dwarf seemed non-violent but it was possible that was a façade. They were somewhere in the lower class part of town, he couldn't see beyond the walls enclosing the small street they were in to figure out where exactly. He was nude, which was easily remedied after he worked out what was going on, although—

"Could we possibly see about putting some clothes on, then I'll do all this again." The dwarf protested. He took a step towards Fenris but immediately halted when Fenris leapt backwards, perhaps a little unsteady but covering it as well as he could so that he could keep his eyes on this stranger. The dwarf certainly wasn't from these parts, he couldn't have magic and his accent was foreign. As far as posing a threat, he had some kind of weapon on his back but he wasn't making any moves to reach for it and it looked to Fenris like an unwieldy thing, difficult to access in a hurry. Of course any man familiar with his weapon was confident he had it with his reach at the smallest trip of a situation.

"Okay, woah. I really am starting from the beginning again, aren't I. Look, I'm Varric, I'm a friend. And I would really appreciate you putting anything on." He still held out one hand placatingly in front of himself before using it to gesture at a pile of things next to Fenris, who begrudgingly snatched the pair of trousers and pulled them on roughly.

"I don't have friends."

"I wish Hawke could have told me you would be so prickly."

"You know Hawke?" Fenris clenched his fist while his eyes darted around the small space, half expecting to see her appear, perhaps held there against her will. Quickly he spotted the hawk perched on the top of the small wall, eyeing him impudently, much like she had as he chased her wild through flight through the streets most of the previous day. Only, he couldn't remember catching up.

"We have been acquainted, yes. Don't panic, your woman is fine…was fine? …Your bird? This is going to take getting used to." The dwarf rubbed his fingers over his brow, a gesture possibly borne out of exasperation. Fenris couldn't understand any of it.

"Was?"

"Is! Is." The dwarf hurried to make the correction and Fenris' sceptical frown deepened.

"You still haven't told me what you want." He demanded and the dwarf focused on him keenly. Fenris rubbed his own head in irritation, a throbbing in his temple drawing his ire while the lyrium under his skin felt…unsettled.

"I want the same thing you do. We're getting you out of here, and to have any hope of that we need to get moving." The dwarf was shifting and looking around him nervously, much like Fenris, as the muted sounds of Minrathous grew around them. He gestured back to the obscured road behind himself but Fenris didn't move at all.

"And Hawke?"

"Is the hawk, yes." Varric explained impatiently and Fenris narrowed his eyes.

"What do you know?" He demanded and he saw the dwarf visibly sigh.

"Alright, fine. You asked. But will you just listen, believe me and then get moving?" The dwarf suggested and Fenris grunted, making sure to convey neither confirmation nor disagreement. With an exaggerated eye roll Varric continued, "I figured that would be too much to ask."

When Fenris only exaggerated his impatient look, for the benefit of this evasive dwarf, he received a quick look up and down before the dwarf began to speak quickly. "First, Hawke is fine. Though we haven't figured out the details, it looks like she turns into a hawk when you turn back into an elf."

" _Back_ into an elf?"

"That was the other side of Danarius' curse. You just spent the last night as a wolf."

Fenris tensed. This Varric knew about Danarius, a detail that immediately betrayed their weakness and Fenris grew defensive, trying to rationalise that if the dwarf had spoken to Hawke, there was the source of his information. His story certainly made sense, Fenris riled bitterly at Danarius' choice of a animal for himself.

"I was a wolf?" Varric nodded. "And I don't remember it?" At this, Varric smiled at some private joke but shifted to a more serious expression.

"I wanted to ask you about that. You remember nothing at all?"

"No." It was a sensation he was all too familiar with. It was just more time that Danarius was able to take away from him.

"Hmm, neither could she. But I don't know whether that means there's none of you at all in the wolf, or her in the bird." Now Varric gave Fenris another appraising look, and Fenris took the opportunity to return it. His initial judgements still seemed to hold true - the dwarf seemed sincere, at least, in what he was saying. "So, now you know about as much as we were able to figure out, other than the fact you need to get out of town because I highly doubt Danarius is ready to let you walk away just like that."

"And you figured this out…?"

"About 10 minutes ago, actually. It's a bit hard to miss when your house guest turns into a bird and her wolf becomes an elf. Which is, well… Other than the actual curse, I don't know anything about the two of you, I don't know who she is and I didn't expect you to be an elf or a—" He paused and Fenris narrowed his eyes, silently daring Varric to say what he was thinking, "—a slave."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand." Not that Fenris did, himself.

"I don't, but I know she was very open in her feelings for you."

"Was she?" His question came out sounding harsh to his ears, scathing, when he was wondering exactly what she had said to the dwarf, how she had phrased it. He recalled, like her voice was burning in his ears, when she had announced her love for him in front of Danarius. He had half thought it to be a ploy, a taunt to goad Danarius even further but in his heart he knew it was true, just as he had longed to tell her he felt the same. But the opportunity had been torn away. If he assumed correctly about this curse, he would never see her face to tell her, ever again.

The enormity of everything began to press in on him but he had to push it away, setting his eyes on the dwarf once more, and the hawk perched on the wall behind, her head tilted expectantly. He knew they had to move on, quickly. Fenris was both gratified and unsettled that Varric seemed to know instinctively just what to say, and to skip on the unnecessary details, in order to make Fenris set off.

And so Fenris finally grabbed the shirt also lying on the floor. He assumed from the warmth still in the material that it was the same one Hawke had been wearing only moments earlier. As he pulled it on he allowed himself a moment to take in the scent of her, surprisingly more familiar than he had previously realised and equally reassuring in the way it enveloped him. He was unnerved by the fact that his markings prickled against the material, the lyrium feeling active under his skin like it hadn't since it had first been put there, since his earliest memories began.

Meanwhile, Varric already knew something about their connection to Danarius, whether he understood the significance of the markings he was unashamedly ogling was uncertain, but other people would certainly recognise them and their presence would remain in their minds, not something Fenris wanted if he was to pass undetected through the streets.

"Do you have anything with a hood, and longer sleeves?" He asked, unrolling the sleeves of the shirt he wore, still leaving a good few inches above his wrist uncovered.

"Isn't that going to make you more noticeable?"

"Many people have reason to hide their identities in these streets, and there are many more who cover their face than those that wear Danarius' lyrium markings."

" _Lyrium_ markings?" Varric repeated incredulously but at Fenris' expression he said no more, gesturing instead. "In the bag, there's a cloak."

Fenris' attention turned to the bag lying on the ground as he wondered about the state of their situation. He didn't know what Danarius was thinking and that was an unsettling thought, both as someone on the run from him, and as someone who had been privy to most of his thoughts for as long as he could remember. The man was dangerous, he could have any number of people looking out for them by now, and surely at least half of Minrathous would be able to recognise him. With the bag slung over his shoulder and the hood of the cloak arranged to cover his conspicuous hair, he regretted that Hawke's plan of sneaking out had been disrupted by his reappearance.

"You know what we're going to do?"

"We're meeting my friend at the docks." Fenris imagined another rebuke concerning the fact he had no friends to take his side but he quelled it, realising that their speed was a greater concern than arguing.

"And Hawke?"

"Well, if she's anything like you were—" As they both turned to look at her, the hawk let out a chirp and then smoothly glided towards Fenris, who instinctively held up his arm for her to land on. Varric chuckled, his theory proven, "—she'll be fairly easy to bring along."

Fenris winced as the thin layers of cloth offered his skin little protection from her claws but he could do little about it now. She seemed quite content to travel with him, or on him, and he supposed he was more grateful about that than any small discomfort it caused him. He nodded to Varric and the dwarf pulled aside the covering onto the main street.

The street was occupied by only a few early risers but that now meant they had less cover in which to hide. Every one of the people up and about would surely notice the strange party of a hooded man, a dwarf and a hawk.

The way in which Danarius had dismissed him the previous day sent a chill through Fenris as he mused over his master's intent. Every sideways glance they attracted he tried not to draw back from, wondering if this person would be tempted by whatever price might be on their heads, if they identified who he was under the hood.

He shuffled closer to the dwarf and spoke under his breath. "You have heard no word on…my master?" He chose not to speak Danarius' name, a fear that if it were even overheard it might draw attention to them, Varric gave him a strange look but replied to the question.

"I have no idea what's going on here, you know more than I do about that man."

"And your friend at the docks? They have a ship?"

"That she does, and a promise to get me out of whatever trouble I get myself into while I'm in town." Fenris gave him a steady look from under the hood but the dwarf smiled and shrugged amicably. "Her words, not mine. It's nice to have someone ready to take my back, no questions asked."

"What you are taking on with us might be more than either of you bargained for." Fenris intoned warningly and was once again taken aback when Varric simply chuckled.

"You know, there's just something about the two of you." He looked at the bird on Fenris' arm and she only chirped in response, wings slightly raised to steady herself as they walked. "You make quite the unlikely pair."

"That's what my master thought." Fenris muttered and Varric frowned.

"Elf, he's not your master anymore." Varric said the words as if they were simple. To Fenris they were anything but.

To not have a master.

He couldn't comprehend what that might mean. Surely no master meant no shackles, that he was free. But this could not be called freedom. Skulking through the streets he knew well, running in fear for his life. When he had dared to imagine a type of freedom, only after Hawke opened his mind to the possibility, it had been a long way removed from this.

As he had been thinking, his feet had unconsciously continued to trail the dwarf down the street. After all, following was something he knew very well how to do. He snapped back to the realisation that he could not let his guard drop, even as he scouted their surroundings for potential threats at all times, he had to think for himself where they were going. He was not a shadow anymore. Or even if he didn't know exactly where they were going, he must stay one step ahead of everyone else around him.

They found themselves emerging from the end of the street into a crowd around the wharves. As the market stalls and early fishing boats came in, so the slaves arrived to buy their master's breakfasts or wares. The swift change in volume of people startled the hawk on his arm and she dug her claws into his flesh before springing straight into the air. Fenris couldn't do anything to stop her and could only watch as she spiralled agitatedly a couple of times, coming to rest on the crossbar of a nearby boat's mast.

He looked around swiftly to see a few of the surrounding heads upturned, watching the oddity of the bird, but none of them seemed to connect it back to him. He relaxed slightly into the anonymity of the crowd.

"Your friend?" He turned to Varric, eyebrows raised expectantly for the next direction.

"Get out to the ships, you'll have to lead us Elf, as you're the only one tall enough to see in this blighted crowd." Varric's voice was muffled as he was jostled by many elves in a hurry to get on with their masters' assignments.

"I'm not often accused of that." Fenris replied wryly and only caught Varric muttering something about a poor sense of timing and birds of a feather.

Nevertheless they made their way beyond the crowds onto the relatively less crowded walkways between the moored boats. It was here that Varric revealed he didn't actually know where the boat he was looking for was, or what it looked like.

"I thought you arrived on it?" Fenris turned on him, keeping his voice as low as his anger allowed.

"I didn't say that, only that she was my friend, and she has a boat."

"Which you haven't seen."

"Not exactly. But I did arrange that she would arrive a couple of days ago, which is when I thought I might be ready to leave."

"Dwarf, are you telling me you don't even know if she _is_ here at all?"

"She gave me her word. And she owes me."

"The word of your friend isn't something I'm willing to stake Hawke's life on."

"Look, we just need to have a scout around. The ship's called The Siren's Call."

"And your friend?"

"It's…probably best we don't go calling her name out around the docks."

"Dwarf, you're giving me very little reason to follow you."

"And you know, Elf, that Hawke agreed this was our best chance at getting you out of the city. She's going to be a little confused when she doesn't wake up on a ship being carried out of Danarius' reach."

Fenris stopped completely still, staring at the dwarf before him, not trying to conceal the contempt in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, to let out the helpless anger he felt at the comment but Varric beat him to it.

"No, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. But you have to admit, there's no other option. You'll just have to trust me."

"I can't do that." He said stubbornly but he saw a brief flicker of something cross Varric's face and he felt moved to continue. "I can't trust you, but Hawke did. And I trust her." He saw the winning smile spread across the dwarf's face as he turned away to look up at the masts above them.

"I'm glad. Now we'd better keep looking. If we're lucky, she's changed the black sails for something that'll blend in better."

"I hope you're joking?" Fenris managed to lighten his tone as Varric looked around at the harboured ships and chose a jetty, seemingly at random, to walk down.

"Just trust me elf."

"Say that one more time." He muttered at the wide back of the unrepentant dwarf.

They kept walking as the early morning fog lifted from around the boats, fishing dinghies and schooners came into dock with their catch while others left with the changing tide. All the while, they could find no sign of the Siren's Call and Fenris was feeling increasingly on edge. Even with increasing numbers of people on the waterfront market, Varric and Fenris were some of the few on the wharves themselves and every moment felt more and more likely that they were going to be spotted.

"Varric, if we don't find your friend soon, we need to find a different plan of escape."

"She'll be here, we still haven't tried the far end."

"Minrathous is an island. We could circle the whole docks looking for her and still be here this evening."

"I know that. That's why I told her the East dock. Easiest turnaround to the open sea that way, too." Varric was unremittingly cheerfully and Fenris scowled up at the sky, checking that Hawke, as she had been doing for the rest of the morning, was still flitting between ships, keeping her eye on their progress.

While he was still looking up he didn't notice that the dwarf beside him had stopped, so when a hand clapped on his back with no warning, he jumped away with a snarl and a prickling flare of lyrium across his skin. Varric immediately put his hands up, as if in surrender, a look of fear on his face that Fenris was all too familiar with, although he was not used to the feeling of guilt that also arose in him, as he quickly willed the veins of light to cool down.

"That's one way of telling people you don't like to be touched." Varric said in a strange voice, struggling to sound lighthearted.

"My apologies, I…" He glanced down and hissed in horror himself. All the effort Danarius had usually gone to in making sure the marking were on full display had apparently been pointless, as the still fading light shone easily through the rough cloak Fenris was wearing. He could almost feel people's attentions being drawn to him, the anxious shiver across his skin growing, not entirely due to the irritation of his accursed lyrium.

"Don't need to explain it elf. What I was saying was that we don't need to worry any longer." He paused for dramatic effect and appeared to sigh when Fenris only growled at him to hurry up. "There she is." The dwarf gestured ahead of them to a fine looking ship, as far as Fenris could recognise quality in boats. It was certainly…afloat.

"Then let's get on it."

"I think we need permission from the captain before you board."

"Move it, dwarf." Fenris gritted his teeth, trying to surreptitiously look over his shoulder while also chivvying his companion forwards.

"Alright fine, I'll just have to vouch for you," He gave a sideways glance at Fenris and raised a brow, "if you don't make that too difficult for me."

Fenris said nothing and strode towards the tall ship. As he drew near he heard a voice from beyond his view, apparently up on the deck. Glancing upwards, his feet came to a stop. Of course.

The very ship he approached was the one Hawke had decided to perch on, and from the sounds of it, she had managed to draw the attention, and cooing, of those on board. Then Varric took his place beside him and hollered out to the crew.

"Ahoy there. Dwarf on the wharf." He chuckled and looked to Fenris for his reaction to the rhyme, only to be disappointed. A scuffle came from above and then a figure with waves of dark hair and more than a flash of gold appeared, hanging over the ledge above their heads.

"Varric! You took your time." A pause as Fenris saw her eyes flick over himself and then, in a more serious voice, "The capstans in a tangle again."

"No, you've got to… oh nugshit, I don't remember. He's fine, Isabela, I'm good." He shouted back up and then with a turn to Fenris he said under his breath, "Emergency code."

"Subtle."

"She came up with it," He replied and Fenris would almost have said he sounded like he was sulking. It was a brief moment however, in the next the gangplank rolled from the bulwarks of the ship and they stepped aboard.

"So you did make it back in one piece then?" The jewelled woman said to Varric, giving him a glance as if counting his limbs and quickly turned to Fenris, to give him a much longer look. "Isabela, Captain of the Siren's Call, and you are?"

Fenris was still watching her warily, glancing around at the few people on the deck who seemed to have readily gone back to their work. He was familiar with the posture of people appearing busy while listening eagerly for new gossip.

"He's a friend." Varric spoke before Fenris could. "And a refugee we're helping. He and his …friend." Isabela raised her eyebrows at that, looking expectantly behind them as if someone else was about to follow them up the gangplank. Fenris stopped himself from turning to do the same, a hand clenched at his side. Hawke would never appear behind him, wrapping her arms around him suddenly, while he always knew it was her. Only her. Instead he dragged his mind to the present and looked up, along with Varric, to the bird above them.

Isabela followed their gaze and laughed. "She's yours? She's stunning. And clearly has good taste in ships." She added with a laugh, something throaty and loose, the kind of easy joy he had so rarely heard, before Hawke. He didn't question why Isabela had assumed the bird was a she, perhaps when you refer to boats as such, you start seeing everything that way.

"She's not mine. She's free." He spoke while still looking at the hawk calmly preening feather on her back, both wings extended slightly to counter the swaying of the ship and the wind high up in the mast.

"Your friend, right. Well, do I get to see your face under that hood?"

"Perhaps when you're moving, Captain?" Varric spoke again in his place and Fenris found himself both frustrated and reassured by someone else taking the lead. However Isabela gave him a look and that was what drew Fenris' attention to the strange emphasis of the statement.

"You're not planning on coming with us?"

"There's something I need to do first. And you need to get out of here now. So you," He looked to the captain, "are going to pick me up from our Plan B two nights from now, because Andraste knows, I've had enough of this place."

"Aye aye." She replied with a grin, seemingly unfazed but Fenris was immediately on guard.

"What are you doing? Was this some plot to trap us?" He took a step backwards, a hand scrabbling behind him to find the edge.

"No, no!" Varric looked immediately remorseful and Fenris saw his wordless plea to Isabela for support. "Believe me buddy. We're on your side. My talent, one of my talents, is getting information from people, even when they don't realise they have it themselves." Fenris was intrigued enough by where this was going to pause in his retreat. "I'm going to do what I can to help you stay one step ahead of Danarius, by finding out what he's doing."

Fenris glanced at Isabela and decided that either she had an excellent poker face, or she didn't recognise the name Danarius. He wasn't sure which unsettled him more.

"Listen, elf. You need to help me and yourself by getting the void out of dodge."

Fenris privately agreed, but had many reservations about this …twist of events. It sounded like someone else was taking another huge risk for his sake, and he barely understood why Hawke would stand up for him, never mind someone who knew nothing more about him than that he was an escaped slave with a curse. He was lost in his bewilderment and most frustrated that he couldn't think of an argument for the dwarf.

"But…why?"

Varric gave him a sad look, leaving Fenris feeling like the dwarf understood more of his thoughts than he cared to imagine, and said, "Look, for the sake of speed, let's say I'm doing it for Hawke. Will you believe me then?" He was now moving towards Fenris, or rather to the top of the gangplank, waiting for Fenris to move aside.

Fenris slowly, begrudgingly, stepped away from the gangplank, allowing Varric passage from the ship. When the dwarf was halfway down the ramp he turned back. "Take care of yourself, Fenris, and you, behave yourself."

"Could you be doubting my character, Varric? I'm always on my best behaviour." Captain Isabela had something about her, a certain leisure as she casually leaned her hip against the side of the boat, that Fenris didn't know he would begin to understand.

"You and I have different measures of quality, then," Varric swiftly responded.

"Dwarf," He couldn't find the words, too many mixed feelings about being left here with company he was neither used to nor sure he could trust, by someone he had only just met and for no apparent reason seemed to have won his faith. "Varric. I am grateful for everything you've done for us."

"Thank me when I get you something useful. And have fun explaining everything important. I doubt I have to remind you, don't leave it too late." Varric gave a final wink to Isabela and then he turned and was heading back towards the thriving waterfront.

Isabela watched his retreating back for a moment with a still expression that seemed to sit oddly on her face, then suddenly she shot a wide grin to Fenris. With a twirl of hair and blue headscarf she was rousing the crew, a force of intent mastering the people around her. Fenris saw how they all fell into position before her, tying and heaving and doing whatever tasks were required to get the ship on its way.

He watched the smaller sail at the front of the boat fill and The Siren's Call slowly creeped from its moored position, edging ever closer to the open sea.

Fenris had never left Minrathous without Danarius. This moment, as they loosed the mooring lines connecting them to the island, marked the furthest he had ever been from his master.

His former master.

Upset by the mainsail being raised, Hawke drifted down to the deck level and landed on Fenris' reflexively raised arm. She clicked her beak at him and he smiled mirthlessly.

"I'm leaving him, Hawke. This is what you wanted." She turned her other eye on him and he nodded resolutely. "You'll see for yourself."

He looked once more at the bustle surrounding him, Isabela had taken position at the helm for the difficult task of steering the ship out of the docks while the rest of her crew were still busy crossing the deck, roping sails, doing what needed to be done. Fenris had no idea what he was meant to do, he was out of place on a ship, out of place without orders. The shore of Minrathous behind him still looked exceedingly close and he felt exposed to view. Thinking of concealment, Fenris made his way to the door that seemed to lead below decks.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you all had a good break, holiday, season of your choice, or perhaps just start to January! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Wow."

"I know. You should see me when I haven't just woken up." Hawke responded unthinkingly to the warm voice before she had opened her eyes. The soft candlelight illuminating the small room was gentle enough that her eyes weren't dazzled and she quickly focused on the woman sat on the bed opposite her.

The woman was grinning broadly at her response and it lit up her golden brown eyes, highlighting cheekbones and dark hair that rippled with her movement, casually held back by from her face with a blue headscarf. Hawke drew her attention back to her surroundings. The woman was sat on the only bed in the room, Riona herself was in some kind of chair, not a particularly comfy one, as the crick in her neck proved when she tried to sit up straighter.

She grabbed hastily at the blanket that slipped from her with the motion and grinned in relief when she kept her modesty intact. Then she remembered why she was waking up naked in an unfamiliar room. Just her luck. Didn't it always turn out to be a dream when it should be real and always real when she really hoped it was a dream.

"Oh, no need to be shy, gorgeous. Someone had to throw a blanket over you when you turned. I hope you don't think I would let any of my crew sully that."

Still properly awakening from her sleep, Riona was struck by the last conscious thought she'd had. It seemed their curse was repeating, when she had foolishly thought that her time as an animal had ended. She was wrong. And apparently this woman knew about it.

"What time is it?" Hawke queried, more cautiously now, not engaging in the innuendo laden comment from the woman, that she had technically started with her first comment.

"Almost midnight now. You've been asleep since late afternoon."

"Well, that certainly made it more pleasant than yesterday. Wait, have you been sat watching me all the time?"

"Hmm, I wish. I just happened to look in on you at the right time. I brought you dinner."

That comment seemed to encourage Riona's stomach to add its opinion to the conversation, and she apologetically laughed as she took the offered bread and meat. "Thanks, maybe there's a problem with not eating for a day at a time."

"How do you know you're not eating, as a bird I mean? They're pretty good at looking after themselves."

"Maker don't make me picture myself eating something…like that. I'm trying to eat actual food here."

"There's always a few rats on the docks." The woman continued with a smirk and Riona held up her hand, intent only on making her stop.

"I take it you're Varric's friend? Isabela?" Riona didn't think she could get used to waking up with other people she'd never met knowing things about her. Having had whole conversations about her.

"Captain Isabela. I hope Varric didn't sell me short on that."

"I don't think Varric did you justice in many ways. And we're at sea? We've left Minrathous?"

"You're definitely at sea. Your hooded friend wouldn't tell me what exactly it is we're running from, other than a magister."

"You shouldn't underestimate that magister." She warned though her mind was already thinking of Fenris, wondering how he was coping with this.

"Captain! Captain we have a problem!" A shout echoed from beyond the room and both Riona and Isabela twisted simultaneously to look toward the door. Isabela was on her feet and pulling it open before Riona even considered moving, and a then there was a panicked looking man framed in the doorway.

"The wolf, captain. It's savage! We got it locked in a room but it near tore off Hakan's arm." Riona made to stand and go to Fenris before being reminded all too intensely of her nudity behind the blanket, that she had managed to continue holding up to her chin. The shipmate at the door caught sight of her at the movement and she wasn't fond of the way his eye immediately took in the loosely draped blanket she was hurriedly refitting around herself.

Isabela stepped neatly into his line of vision, cutting off his view. "Sounds like you shouldn't unlock that door then. We'll be there soon enough." She shut the door on him before he could answer back, or indulge his wandering eyes, and then the captain turned once more to Riona and pointed to the space next to her. "Your bag of is there if you have spare clothes, but I have some that might suit you better, unless you're particularly fond of dwarf length breeches?"

Riona nodded exaggeratedly, making her way to the chest that Isabela had gestured towards and realised as she opened the drawer that this must be the Captain's quarters. It made sense, from her scant experience with ships, she hadn't known many cabins to have an actual bed. She took the first items she saw, figuring that Isabela was close enough in build to herself that she wouldn't need to be picky, and hurriedly dressed herself in a loose, navy blouse and tight breeches.

Riona stood to see the captain had politely, and unexpectedly, averted her gaze, then gestured for her to lead the way. She needed to get to Fenris, find some way to calm him down if he was hurting people, or himself.

She had asked Isabela to go ahead because she was unfamiliar with the layout of the ship, but the guidance turned out to be unnecessary. The sounds of people fussing and chattering led them easily down the narrow, swaying corridor, to a small crowd gathered around a door with a large barrel shoved in front. Clearly the door wasn't made to be locked from the outside.

Riona stepped forwards, pushing her way through the small throng of excited people and began pointedly heaving at the barrel. A couple of people stepped forwards, though whether to help or hinder she wasn't sure, as a voice called out from the gathered men and those who had been moving stopped sharply.

"What do you think you're doing lass?"

Riona didn't reply, as she braced her feet to put more weight behind the barrel.

"There's a wild wolf in there, girl. Do you understand me? It's vicious."

"He's not. I need to get to him." She replied, giving him her best attempt at a withering stare.

"You're a fool, girl."

"Then rid yourself of this fool by letting me in there." She snapped back and after she sensed some silent conference happening behind her, finally someone stepped forward and between them the barrel was shifted from the doorway. Riona also registered that Isabela had stayed back during all of this, observing but not commanding her men either way.

She hadn't heard a sound from the other side of the door throughout all of this and she was worried exactly what Fenris might have done to himself in there. Without taking any longer to think about it, she slipped the door open and edged through the small gap.

She barely managed to pull it closed again, when a snarl and a snap of teeth had her spinning to face the open room. A shape uncurled from the corner of the room and launched itself in a flurry of white, a tempest released.

Then his fangs latched onto her forearm and Riona yelled out in surprise as much as pain, both hitting her as sharply as the other. Even as she cried out, the wolf twisted and leapt away. His teeth pulled free but not without dragging harshly across her skin, leaving a gouge that rapidly filled with dark red blood.

She slapped her other hand to the wound, scrabbling at once to stem the bleeding and squeeze away the pain. She felt fear, her own stupidity burning at her as she looked up and saw the eyes of a wolf looking back at her. She had fooled herself into forgetting the cruel trickery of Danarius' curse, the nature of the wolf, a creature known for its savagery in ancient and modern tales alike. Fenris may be trapped in there, but he was not in control.

Blood pumped in her ears, it trickled between her fingers, and Riona tried to plan what to do next. She could only take it slowly, show him she meant no harm and as she lifted her eyes the shout she intended for the crowd certainly still gathered outside died in her throat. The wolf had returned to the corner he had started in, now his ears were laid back, his tail curled tightly around him and his whole demeanour radiating misery as his head hung low, eyes down.

Riona glanced briefly at her forearm, decided that was a mistake and tried to ignore the warm wetness on the hand firmly pressing down on her other hand. Without the use of her hand, she used the door to push herself unsteadily upright. She felt vibrations from the other side and as she focused on them the sound of shouts and banging filtered through her senses, probably due to her lack of response. In a voice meant to carry through the wood, while not startling the cowering creature in the corner, she gently called for them to hush, also answering their queries as to whether she was still alive or not.

The noise died down as she spoke, and she walked towards the wolf. Fenris wouldn't look at her. She stepped closer and he hung his head lower, letting out a low whine.

"Fenris, look at me." She asked, a sentence she had already been used to repeating. His ears twitched. He didn't look. "I know you're in there. Something of you is in there, and I know you're sorry. But I'm fine." Her arm throbbed as if affronted at her lie but she winced the pain away and took another step.

The sensible part of her told her to run, that she had willingly locked herself in a room with a huge, wild wolf. The other part of her, that had never been rational, seemed uncharacteristically quiet but determined and she took the last step across the small room to kneel in front of him. He would be able to sense her fear, but she hoped he—Fenris, would also sense her connection to him, her devotion to his _true_ nature that would always keep her at his side.

She didn't move, she simply sat in front of him, quietly whispering words of acceptance, approval, that he hadn't hurt her badly, she would be fine, she didn't blame him. Finally, hesitantly, Fenris raised his head, enough that his eyes met hers, that she reached out to him, one hand still clamped on her arm, the other hand guided with certainty to that spot behind his ears that her mabari back in Kirkwall loved so much.

The white ears twitched and perked to their forwards position and his body language opened out once more, calming down under her practiced fingers and finally the great tail gave one heavy thump against the floor to show his appreciation of her attentions. When she was sure Fenris, or the wolf, was soothed enough she pushed herself to her feet, walked unsteadily to the door of the room and pushed it open. She had to lean more weight than she liked on the doorframe once she reached it, hoping that Fenris wouldn't see the drained slump of her shoulders, as she called for someone to come and bring a healer's bag, possibly a health potion if they had any on board.

Then she returned to the wolf's side, confident that he was calm, whether it was her presence specifically or just someone who knew what they were doing she wasn't sure, she didn't want to dwell on what either meant to her. When someone did arrive with bandages she had to fend off his concerns that Fenris was perfectly safe now, even as the nervous healer seemed intent to treat Hawke from the opposite side of the room until she coaxed him over, privately amused by the similarities in dealing with skittish men and cowering wolves.

The next evening Riona woke alone in the room. She found her clothes laid out again ready for her and pulled them on before heading up to the deck. Though clouds blocked what little light came from the stars and moon that night, she found Isabela stood at the prow, staring intently out over the choppy blackness where the water must be. Riona pulled her cloak tighter around herself. Despite not turning to look at who approached, the captain spoke first.

"You know, your eyes look exactly the same. Which is crazy, hawk's eyes are nothing like human eyes but still. The colour, the intensity, it's captivating."

"Fenris' are the same. It's how I knew." Riona couldn't help the warmth in her voice and Isabela smirked knowingly.

"I noticed that too. He's a bit more difficult to get on with than you but he's a good man. I told him he'd hurt someone and I've never seen someone so guilty over a scratch. He tried to go straight to Hakan to apologise, before I stopped him."

"Why did you do that?"

"It might surprise you to know I have some experience in secrets. The less who know the better and only those few who were on deck yesterday know that you didn't bring a wolf when you boarded. I saw to it they're sworn to silence on what they think they know. On pain of something much worse than death."

"And you didn't tell him…?" Riona held up her forearm, a fresh bandage on display after she had cleaned the wound with a healing salve, a thing she'd never come across before and apparently a Rivaini recipe. She had made a mental note to ask Isabela for instructions on how to recreate it, seeming like something that might come in useful, wherever they ended up going next.

"Pfft, he was already guilty enough about Hakan, I wasn't going to deal with him if I made it worse. How is it?"

"I'll heal. It's better he doesn't know until I can explain it to him myself." Riona thought she caught the captain give her a sideways glance but with the dim light it was hard to pick up movement and when she glanced over Isabela was looking over the water again.

"Is he…safe now?" She seemed hesitant and Riona tried to give her a reassuring smile, the effect lost in the darkness of the night.

"A…wolf doesn't like being trapped in a small room. Especially not one that's swaying from side to side." The cold air was causing her forearm to ache under the bandage, she wondered if it had hurt as much during the day, despite her not being able to recall any memory at all from the daylight hours.

"I guess animals don't understand the concept of getting their sea legs. What's he doing now?" There was something in Isabela's voice as she asked after Fenris, not concern for him but fear of him. Fear just like he had always experienced in his life as nothing more than the living weapon of an already alarming magister.

"He's asleep." She knew Isabela was more concerned about the possible threat to the rest of her crew, as a good captain should be, and this was no answer but Riona was fairly confident that when she was needed, she could draw his mind out, at least enough to calm the wolf. She pushed on, before Isabela tried to extract any promise she didn't yet know if she could keep. "So where are you taking us?"

"Plan B."

"I wasn't aware we had one." Riona hesitated, was this something Fenris had come up with and again she was left out of the loop?

"You didn't, Varric did." Isabela replied easily. "We decided on a fallback location to meet up if things went…awry."

"My plans have a habit of doing that." The captain chuckled and didn't respond. Instead something ahead of them caught her attention. Riona followed her gaze to a massive black shape emerging from the darkness ahead, an outline of a coast. There, she caught sight of a light, a lantern being covered and uncovered in what had to be a specific sequence.

Riona had no chance of making any sense of it and instead watched the focus on Isabela's face, as she lightly bit her bottom lip. Doing this she caught the moment that the slight crease appeared between the captain's brows.

"What is it?" She asked immediately and Isabela turned her frown onto Riona.

"A complication. That's all he's said." Both their eyes turned back to the dark mass of land ahead, seeking a further message that only one of them could decipher. "Flaming arse Varric, you'd better not have forgotten these codes…" She cut off as the light flashed again.

Another pause and then she turned back to Riona once more. "He has company."

"Behind him? Because if they're letting him signal this is a very friendly hostage situation." Riona knew her glibness wasn't hiding her anxiety bu it was one way of dealing with it. She stared hard into the darkness, seeking any sign of what lay ahead. "Can we go to land there?"

Isabela took a deep breath, and said with a grim tone, "Only Varric knew those sequences. He's ready to be picked up."

She didn't say more as she gave the ship's wheel a slight turn, changing their course by a couple of degrees. Sailing onwards into the unknown blackness.

Riona twitched nervously at Isabela's side, letting the Captain do what she thought was best and not at all reassured that this was a sensible situation to be sailing straight into. Still, Hawke knew that Minrathous was not easy to get onto, never mind away from when there was a powerful magister on their tail. Varric had made it seem simple and now it was him in trouble on their behalf.

"You must be very loyal to Varric." She remarked.

"No more than you, sweet thing." Isabela smirked, taking in the way her partner stood up straighter, her mind set on returning the favour to their rescuer.

"You owe him?" It wasn't a question, it seemed Varric hadn't been exaggerating the way he collected favours. An even trade for whatever he might need in the future. She couldn't help but imagine what things he might have helped this captain with to win her loyalty but it wasn't her place to ask. Isabela had been good enough to ask few questions about their highly intriguing situation. The captain merely hummed in assent, while Riona realised that crags were becoming distinct on the cliffs ahead.

Riona felt breath grow short as the cliffs grew rapidly closer and stretched above them, no obvious passage appearing through the rocky foreshore, making their course seem bound for collision. She took a nervous glance at Isabela but the Rivaini put all her attention into carefully guiding the prow across an apparently impossible route.

"Just because I like a heads up, how likely are we to crash and die?" Riona commented as the clouds across the sky briefly uncovered stars, providing enough traitorous light that Riona was forced to look at the rocks emerging from the water before them. Isabela raised an eyebrow.

"No chance. This is the Siren's Call, and what sirens specialise in is leading sailors onto the rocks."

"Right… and we're sailors." Riona found this wasn't particularly comforting.

"No. We're the siren." Isabela corrected. Not trusting herself to follow pirate logic, Riona tried to plan out the correct procedure when chunks of the ship were inevitably ripped out by the unwelcoming rocks. She followed the Captain's gaze as they continued to glide smoothly across the water, and out of nowhere a dark gash across the cliff face began to widen into an opening. It seemed almost large enough for the ship and then before Riona could think about it too hard, the rock canopy swallowed the light over their head and they were completely hidden within a pitch black cave.

"So— ISABELA!" She yelped and the captain chuckled from her side, their voices echoing on the walls apparently close around them.

"Hmhmm, just checking you're still there."

"Well, you found me. Now if you'll remove your hand from my arse, tell me what happens next?"

"Scared of the dark?"

"No but armed. With knives." She retorted but bumped her hip towards Isabela's once she'd located her, negating the bite of her words. She heard someone, one of the few crewmen who had also been moving around on the deck release the anchor and the chain rattled down to splash into the water. The Captain sighed.

"Now, we wait. Varric is coming."

"We can't see a thing. What about his friends up there."

"Let's hope he kept his torch." Riona huffed audibly, eliciting that easy laugh. "I know this coast but they aren't expecting anyone to be crazy enough to sail out of here."

"Oh excellent. Now I feel better."

"Exactly. We get a headstart, leave them flapping about on the cliffs like a one night stand, and they'll have lost us in the night before they manage to pull their pants up from around their ankles."

"I'll take your word on that one." Riona couldn't help but laugh at the imagery, "So how does Varric get to us?"

"I showed him the way, we're in an old smuggling cave with a passage at the top. But it might be smart if you wait below decks. In case he brings anyone after him."

"I can help."

"Do that by keeping your wolf happy if he wakes up, we don't need more complications. If you see Asanio on your way down, tell him to gather the men on deck." Again, Riona noticed the strange tone affecting Isabela's voice when she talked about the wolf, quite distinct from the way she spoke of Fenris.

Riona also didn't like the idea of hiding while other people fought her battles for her. But before she could protest more she felt Isabela take her arm, leading her confidently across the deck to the inside cabins. She opened the door and Riona's eyes startled at a lantern still lit in the corridor. Then she heard a voice from beyond the ship, echoing against the walls and bouncing around the cavern.

"Rivaini?"

"Varric!" Isabela and Riona replied together, Riona slightly perturbed by the surprise and relief also evident in the captain's voice, gone when she continued, "You're alone?"

"I almost wasn't here at all. Great flaming ass, you could have made that entrance easier to find."

Isabela pushed Riona through the door as she called back, quietly enough but it carried lyrically with the strange acoustics of the rocks. "A giant staircase would rather defeat the point of a secret escape route, wouldn't you say?"

Varric's reply was muffled by the door being pushed closed behind Riona and she tried only to think about the logic behind her exclusion, in case of unwanted company looking for her specifically. It was moments later, as she was almost at the door to Fenris' room that she heard the unmistakeable sound of the anchor chain ratcheting back up into place. Varric must be aboard. She pushed herself through the door, ignoring her curiosity and sank down to the floor. Fenris quickly padded over to her, lying alongside her legs and lifting his head into her lap. His green eyes raised to her face and he seemed to be watching her nervous jumping at the loud grinding of the chain, brows giving him a somehow disdainful expression.

"Oh quiet you. I'm allowed to worry." While she'd always been strong for Fenris, reassuring him she'd get him out, telling him she knew what she was doing with Danarius, she couldn't help but think of the powerful reminders she'd had that it wasn't really him there. Not completely.

She could let her walls down with him now more than ever and it made her wish she'd done so more to his face when she could. In the morning he wouldn't remember this night at all and she'd be the mindless animal when he needed her.

She curled up to bury her face in his fur, hiding from the dark thoughts that can't be chased away in the middle of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

Fenris was angry. It should have been better than this. Perhaps there were no longer rules he was commanded to obey, he was not a puppet of a cruel and unforgiving magister any more, but Danarius still lingered. He felt the constant threat of seeing his master, could only imagine the price he would pay for his disobedience. It was a particularly cruel fate the Danarius had not truly let him go, not the way he had phrased their parting. This was supposed to be the freedom Hawke had fought for, had sacrificed her own freedom for. Instead they were tied together in a curse he couldn't see an end to.

It should have been better. Fenris was angry.

"Oh, I see you're in a good mood. I was worried I'd have to put up with you brooding again all day." He heard the ever cheerful voice of the dwarf as he entered the room and sighed. He was necessary.

"I don't brood."

"Of course not. This is you happy, thinking of puppies and roses."

"Did you have something to say?"

"Don't I always? But yes, Rivaini's on her way. We need to come up with a plan."

"A plan?" Fenris frowned, giving no other sign of the tenseness that came upon him at the prospect.

"What next, where she's taking you." Varric carried on, blissfully oblivious to Fenris' hesitation.

Fenris couldn't plan, he didn't know how to take that responsibility, especially the responsibility of deciding for both himself and Hawke. Separating from her didn't bear consideration. He couldn't do this without her, even when her only input was a meaningless chirp and a flap of wings as the rockier movement of the ship unsettled her from the flat surface of the table.

He waited quietly, safe in the knowledge that Varric would attribute his silence to nothing other than his apparent propensity to brood. When Isabela arrived she swayed into the room, saving none of the performance despite her audience being only the two of them. She unhurriedly reached around Fenris to the chest behind him and lay out a map on the table before them.

The unfamiliar markings and shadings of the map confused him at first, before certain shapes stood out and he realised he was looking at a sea map of northern Thedas. The oceans had to be showing the currents or hazards relevant to sailors, while the land was scarcely marked, save for the major coastal towns and cities. He identified where their ship must be, roughly, based on Isabela's explanation earlier in the day, heading out of the huge bay around which Tevinter curled.

He looked up at Isabela, whose eyes were knowingly fixed on Varric with a smile. The dwarf was still staring at the map, a frown on his face and for once not saying anything. Slowly Isabela reached out and placed her long finger next to where Minrathous was marked, allowing him to recognise the coastline.

"Oh nugshit Rivaini, why couldn't you use a normal map."

"I would think the captain has little use for a map of roads. Unless her ship has some magic you haven't told me about." Despite the way his voice lowered on the word magic, or perhaps because of it, Varric chuckled.

"Oh great, take her side. Just what I need." He grumbled good-naturedly then leant forwards to look more closely, standing up straight to assume his story telling pose, what he did when he wanted people to listen to him. "So Elf, right now we're heading out of Tevinter _but_ we don't know where we are taking you."

Fenris looked down at the map, a world of places he'd heard mentioned any number of times but he didn't know any of them. There was so little he had experienced of the world, outside of the life at Danarius' heel.

"Hawke has travelled, surely she would be more capable in planning a…"

"Hawke isn't here." Isabela looked briefly at the bird sat on the table, pecking idly at a curling corner of the map before another roll of the ship left her claws skidding uselessly across the table for lack of traction. "Or she's not giving us the walking tour of Thedas. Besides, she travelled without any particular goal in mind. You have an aim."

Fenris looked up at her blankly. "We do?"

"To not get caught by a crazed magister." Varric had filled them in when he had returned to the boat. Danarius was not at all ready to let Fenris walk free. Instead he was organising a hunting party. From what Varric had gathered, Fenris and Hawke were being given a headstart but were not going to be left alone for long. Fenris had never suspected that his master would let him go, privately he knew he had been too faithful, too good a servant for Danarius to even manage without him. The small hint of pride he felt for that only made him angrier.

It didn't appear as if he suspected anyone would have given him a ride on a ship. But it would only be a matter of days before he had to realise that he wasn't still in the city. Then he would assume Fenris had somehow stowed away, he would be waiting for reports of a wolf caught on a ship, turning savage, as Danarius presumably had no doubt about the untamed nature of the wolf he had inflicted on Fenris.

If he was content to wait for word to reach him of a wolf caught and killed, he would be delayed for some time at least. Varric also hadn't been able to hear any word of the curse, so while Danarius reported his missing slave to a choice collection of ears, it seemed he was keeping the most distinguishable part of the story to himself. How Varric had been able to find what Danarius was sending out through his channels, Fenris couldn't even pretend to understand. It seemed that the followers that had been after Varric on the coast were more concerned with something he had done and were not aware of the other people he was protecting. Or at least they had been held up by the treacherous seas long enough that the inhabitants of the Siren's Call hadn't been worried by them yet.

"Avoiding Danarius doesn't give us a destination to work towards." Fenris continued stubbornly, reaching out to let Hawke hop onto his arm. He had begun to pad his sleeve on that arm, so that when the bird walked up to his shoulder, her talons didn't claw into his skin quite so painfully.

"It gives you somewhere to start."

"More like where not to." Fenris retorted and he heard Varric laugh.

"That's my point, Elf. We need you to work out where Danarius is least likely to look."

"And I'm told no one would know that better than you." Their words caused Fenris to look up in surprise, understanding dawning.

He took a moment before answering, thinking carefully. "Nowhere in Tevinter is safe obviously. He has links with contacts in Antiva, some in Rivain, and a couple even in the Free Marches. Many in Fereldan and Orlais" He stopped again, looking at the scope of the map. "Though that is definitely beyond where I would expect you to take us."

Isabela smiled at him distractedly, she was already looking at the map. Varric clapped his hands together.

"Oh good, this is going to be easy. If some lunatic has to be chasing you, why not make sure he's the most connected bastard in all Thedas." Fenris grimaced, he couldn't argue.

"He has the connections, whether they're loyal to him outside handing over suitable slaves for a healthy fee, I can't say." He glanced back down at the map. "The only place he hasn't got a steady trade is the Anderfels. Though he's tried, he always comes back muttering that they have no business sense and are impossible to work with. As far as I could tell, the people he meets come out with different opinions of the deals."

"More like different opinions of Tevinter. Perhaps it's not their lack of business sense he struggles with, but the fact they have a sense of morality." Varric suggested. Fenris nodded but Isabela chimed in.

"I don't know the seas on that coast. They don't actually have all that much coast, poor things. Even then, do you have any ideas where in the Anderfels?"

"Somewhere we can travel quickly along the road. I don't know the Anderfels at all, other than I don't want to be caught by the storms out in the Wandering Hills."

"Or the Hunterhorns." Isabela pointed them out to the west. "Or the High Reaches." Further south.

"Good point, Funalis celebrations have already been and gone. Those mountains will be getting too frozen soon for anyone to be crossing near them." Varric added his point.

Isabela also made a considering sound. "We already had a delay when we had to rescue Varric."

"Oh blame me all you want but I do make an excellent damsel in distress."

"So what are you saying?" Fenris interrupted when they seemed to be letting their attentions be drawn away from the map.

"Meaning people saw the ship from the coast, I'm certain, and it's going to be linked to you if this Danarius ever hears about it."

"So the ship's not safe."

"Not for long, dropping you somewhere sooner would be safer, just so long as you have a plan of action to take after that." Isabela wandered her hands along the map of the coast. They pondered for a while longer, taking into consideration the coming cooler season of autumn and the paths beyond the coast.

Eventually Varric had started rifling through Isabela's cabinet until she gave in and found a land map for them to study as well, which Fenris didn't admit to finding much more useful, now that he could see many of the roads and hazards that they might have to navigate around.

There was much backwards and forwards in their discussion, Isabela was on a clearly Rivaini ship, surely they'd recognise that she would be heading east, but travelling east it would take longer to get out of Tevinter. Hawke had been to Antiva before she came to Tenvinter, therefore she might know her way around better, but it might also make her more recogniseable. After he'd had enough of the arguments bouncing backwards and forwards Fenris stepped around Isabela, avoiding her hands as he passed, and put a finger on the map.

"You're going to the east. I cannot ask you to divert your course any longer. I will see that Danarius doesn't find us but I can't keep you from your business any longer, when I have nothing to repay you for your help."

"I'm sailing the seas, there are potentially angry people after me. This is business as usual Fenris. You don't need to worry about that." Isabela arched an eyebrow.

"I'm not arguing with getting off this creaking seesaw any sooner." Varric agreed with an exaggerated groan, masterfully avoiding the poisonous look the captain levelled at him. As the writer spoke, it struck Fenris how much he himself looked forward to getting away from the confines of the boat. Watching the sun getting closer to the horizon in the afternoon left him constantly fearful over what he might do to the helpless people trapped here with him. Once he was away and only looking after himself and Hawke, he would feel much better. He had already done more damage than he ever wished to people who had been unnecessarily kind.

Of course there was no way he could agree with Varric, he was much closer to Isabela and he wasn't brave enough to make any slight against her ship.

"The Imperium marks it's boundary with the Hundred Pillars mountains, if we use the White Spire as a marker we'll be able to navigate." He determined instead.

"If you say so. Any plan sounds…better than we had so far."

"As you said, dwarf, the plan is to survive. I will make sure of that."

"Works as well as any." Varric laughed and Fenris said nothing, glaring grimly at the expanse of land he had never had the opportunity to visit on the map while Hawke ruffled her feathers against his ear.

It was as he left the meeting room that Fenris realised what Isabela and Varric's ploy had been. They hadn't ever actually given any decisions, just various points to consider before letting Fenris come to his own conclusions. He didn't know how to feel about their subtle manipulation, making him take the decision into his own hands, but he had made one nonetheless.

He had never considered that might be something he was capable of.

It took a further two nights on the ship before Fenris noticed the ship turning towards the land just visible to the south as he climbed to the deck in the morning. only a few hours later he stood beside the Captain as she guided the ship into a very small bay. The imposing and unmistakeable shape of the White Spire rose straight ahead of them.

He was aware that Hawke had given their new acquaintances a proper farewell and thank you at some point during the early hours of the morning. He also knew he couldn't find the words to thank them for the risks they were taking in helping both himself and Hawke's escape. If Varric hadn't helped Hawke in that alley, or if Isabela hadn't been willing to keep them on her ship even after he'd hurt one of her crew, he couldn't have made it this far.

He was not skilled with elegant words and speeches. But Varric knew that.

"Alright, Elf. We've got a long way to go." He appeared behind Fenris and patted him on the arm where he stood looking over the bulwarks, avoiding the shoulder where Hawke had taken her usual perch. Fenris nodded before he processed the words fully.

"We? Varric, I am beyond grateful for all your help but you do not need to come out of your way with us any longer."

"This isn't about you, elf. I told you I want off this blighted ship and after this stop Isabela's sailing straight on to Dairsmuid. That's another week at least to sail around Rivain and I am not playing nice about her ship for that long. Plus, all the salt air is making Bianca creaky."

Varric muttered angrily on and Fenris couldn't help but chuckle. "You're not much suited to the sea, then."

"What I'm suited for is my comfy room in the Hanged Man." He sighed, "But I needed to sort out a mess someone else dragged me into, otherwise I'd never have left Kirkwall."

"There are unlikely to be any bars the way we need to go."

"I know, but I figure that if I need to get back to the Free Marches, being in the company of an angry, glowing elf and an angrier Hawke is a good way to do it." Varric looked out wistfully at the approaching dry land that clearly didn't offer the promise of a warm beer anytime soon.

"I am not certain Hawke and I can make the best travel companions. We need to lie low and travel fast."

"Save your breath, elf. You're not the only one who can be stubborn as a bronto in a temper."

Fenris said no more and Varric, clearly mulling over his own thoughts kept him company as they stared quietly ahead until Hawke lightly hopped from Fenris' shoulder, circling them once before sweeping off across the foamy wavelets, towards the land, scouting out their journey ahead.

"How do you know she's coming back?" Isabela's voice merrily called from behind them and Fenris turned to her with a scowl.

"She's not a pet." He insisted simply, "She can do what she likes." He repressed the part of him that panicked at the possibility of losing her, even the barest part of her he had.

"What if she falls asleep in a tree as a bird, then wakes up human and falls out of it?" She chuckled, her eyes looking over Fenris' head to the disappearing bird in question.

"How long until we reach land?" Fenris overrode her, filing away more things in his list of concerns based on his inability to look out for her himself.

"Oh, I'm not going in. Look at it: shallow bay, big boat." She gestured smugly at the mast above her. "You'll be going inland on the dinghy." As if on cue, Fenris heard the rattling of the anchor dropping into the water, holding them in place some quarter of a league from the bay. "So if you're ready to go, now's the time for our tearful farewells."

"I'm not sure that will be necessary."

"Oh come on, sweet thing. Just a hug to show how grateful you are."

"Rivaini, I don't think the elf wants to be on the receiving end of one of your hugs."

"Sure he does." She purred with a wink and Fenris shook his head.

"You can keep your hands to yourself, Captain." He replied, raising his brow at her undiminished beam.

"Hmm, fine. How about something else then. I figured you might need a little something to help look after yourselves." She smiled sincerely then and Fenris frowned suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" He didn't know he could take anything else from her.

She reached to a belt she had tied around her tunic and unclipped it, revealing two daggers sheathed behind her back.

"You've got nothing but the clothes on your back but that won't stop bandits. Especially if you're heading past Antiva. You'll need these." She passed the belt to Fenris before he could argue and he pulled one of the weapons free. It had an elegantly carved gilt handle, the blade seemed newly polished but looking closely he could tell it had been well used.

"Isabela, this is too much. I can't take them."

"Look Broody-and-Gorgeous, before you refuse out of some sense of gallantry, don't make this more than it is. These are my old knives, they were going to waste if I didn't find something to do with them. And I'd rather see you live."

Isabela smiled as she flicked her hand at him, dismissing his half-hearted attempt to pass it back to her. He looked down, taking in the old belt leather, the small scratches on the hilt that had not been fixed in the recent, likely hasty, resharpening of the blade. It was a gift.

"We figured you'd never take something willingly that looked like it was worth a damn. I suggested just hiding it in your bag." Varric said from his shoulder and pointed at the other knife still in the sheath. "See if you look closely, the handles flaking on this one."

He had been given a gift, and they had made sure he couldn't refuse it. This was more thoughtful than he had imagined they could be.

"Now I'm not sure I should be grateful or worried that you read me as easily as Hawke."

"Just take the knives, find your bird somehow, and get on the boat." Isabela smiled. She moved forwards before Fenris could stop her, placing a playful kiss on his cheek. He froze in place, a reflex when anything came so far into his personal space. He knew Isabela sensed it but when she drew back she only threw a rogueish wink at him. He forced himself to lower his shoulders and with an effort gave a smile and quick nod in return.

"If you're ever in Rivain, you and Hawke must come find me."

"In the entire country of Rivain, we'll find you just like that?"

"If you mention the Captain, I'm sure someone will point you in the right direction." Varric grumbled and Isabela cheerfully shoved him by the shoulder, clearly anything but upset by her infamy.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Maybe ask about the ship." She said with a smile.

"Make it sound like you're not sure who's in charge, or you're not happy about it." Varric chipped in. Fenris glanced between the two of them, not quite sure whether they were serious or not. He was able to avoid finding a response when he saw a flicker or movement and a familiar bird dropped from the sky above them, returning smoothly to the old leather brace Isabela had given Fenris for his shoulder, only until he managed to make or buy a better one.

"Until we meet again, Captain." Fenris said, realising as he spoke how much his words almost seemed like a plan for the future. The idea that he might have one.

"Here's to seeing you and Hawke together in a room, at the same time. You know, as you." A small dinghy was being lifted over the edge of the ship by a sturdy chain and winch. Varric was already making his way over to it, clearly opting to be lowered down in the boat rather than climbing the rope ladder down to the level of the water.

Isabela held Fenris back by the arm when he began to follow the dwarf. Halting immediately, he had to think before pulling his eyes from the ground to look into Isabela's face.

"Fenris, you need to know something. Hawke is a big girl. She chose her path herself and there's no point you spending all your time brooding over it. You're blaming yourself for things you couldn't have done anything to change." The captain had been looking at him the whole time, with her hand still on his arm, and he knew she was trying to make sure her point got across. He stayed silent and sullen but her words were already mulling around his head.

After a pause she gave a last gentle squeeze of his upper arm and let go with a sigh. "Watch yourselves out there. I don't want to see any harm come to that fine bird you got there."

He looked at her again out the corner of his eye and smiled slightly, "I will make sure it does not."

And then, with little more fuss, the captain said her goodbyes and Fenris was on his way inland on a much smaller, rickety boat.

After almost a week on the ship, Fenris had his feet on solid, steady land. Varric whooped with joy as he watched the crewman Asanio push the boat from shore and begin returning to the Siren's Call. Fenris and Varric next had to find a good place inland, sheltered from view of the coast and avoided lighting a fire before night fell in case any ships they might have on their tail saw the smoke.

The next morning saw Fenris wake with his hawk sat looking straight at him, perched on top of their shared bag of belongings. Looking around at their things, he could tell the knives had been moved and hoped that she had only been practicing. A thought flickered through his head that perhaps Hawke had known about the belt knives before he had. If she had, maybe she had something to do with the manner they were presented to him. In fact, her advice might explain a lot of the things Isabela and Varric had said and done for him over the course of their journey.

He reached into the bag where, as usual, Hawke had left his clothes and frowned when the bag opened with an unusual crackle. Reaching in, his fingers brushed against a sheet of paper. He gave a furtive glance over his shoulder to place the tell-tale snoring coming from Varric's direction, then he pulled out the paper, glancing at it quickly.

It was a note, left for him by Hawke's own hand and a rush of anger slammed into him.

He had never been taught to read.

Holding back his surprising rush of emotion at his uselessness, he placed the paper back into the bag after he had dressed and neatly folded Hawke's clothes. First in his priorities, he had to decide where they were.

No longer being steered by the winds and Isabela's ocean sense, the path ahead was chosen only by his own feet and the captain's words came back to him as he silently stalked past Varric into the trees to check their location.

So far, he had been dwelling on what got them into this position, his guilt at drawing Hawke into his terrible mess with Danarius but by blaming himself he was giving Hawke too little credit. She had told him that she had been tempted into Danarius' mansion when she had seen him, he was ignoring the fact she had chosen to follow. From the moment she had decided to approach him on the steps of the magisterium, knowing that he was giving her the chance to walk away, her future had been in her own hands.

Now it was in both of theirs. Entwined together as much as they were kept apart. Despite Hawke's best intentions to save him, this was not the freedom she had hoped for and now it was his turn to free her from his own chains.

He would find a way to get them out of this. He also realised that during the night his companions had moved a little further inland. Best to set as much distance between themselves and the sea as soon as possible. That was the plan they had decided on, separately and together. Use the White Spire mountain as their guide and walk into the anonymity of Antiva and the Free Marches.

Once that was decided, he had something else to figure out. He couldn't read her note, and he guessed she didn't know that. Instead, he had to find some other way to let him know he was thinking of her too.


End file.
